


Learning to Use Chopsticks

by blackcoffee13



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, First Time Together, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Making Love, Making Out, Mentions of kidnapping, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating is for later chapters, Sex, Spencer is an Awkward Bean(tm), Will become darker as the story progresses, canon divergent-ish, frank discussions of sex and sexuality, general conversations about sex and sexuality, mentions of torture, mentions of violence towards women, sensuality and sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-07-02 04:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 77,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15789438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackcoffee13/pseuds/blackcoffee13
Summary: “We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.” -Walt DisneyDr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor. Apparently, she likes Chinese food and doesn't know how to enunciate when ordering.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into writing Criminal Minds fanfic, and I will be the first person to tell you that I am a ~newer~ member of the fandom (Netflix is a glorious, glorious thing y'all). That being said, I am planning on making this story a touch canon-divergent. I know about some of the events in later seasons (which is when this particular story will be taking place) but I would rather not include some of them. Mostly, I just want Spencer Reid to be happy since A P P A R E N T L Y that's not something he's gonna get in canon.
> 
> I hope you enjoy~

_“We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.” -Walt Disney_

She always moved in the middle of July.

It wasn’t something that she actively tried to do, of course, but it never failed that when that itch in her legs started again it was just as the weather started to turn hot and cloying.

As it was, this particular moving week wasn’t quite as terrible as it could’ve been. Storms had been plaguing most of the East Coast for nearly a solid month, but she was blessed with a small series of perfectly dry days in which to move, handy given that it was just her hauling box after box into the apartment.

Thank God for elevators, at least.

While moving in itself only took a day, she was thankful for the couple of days that followed wherein she could open up the windows and take in the city noises of DC, so like that which she’d gotten used to in New York, but so terribly different at the same time.

But, that’s why she’d moved here, wasn’t it?

Something new and exciting, but something she could make sense of at the same time.

It was on her third evening in her new apartment that things went a little… Hinky.

She’d ordered Chinese to be delivered from a place that had a pretty good Yelp rating - instinctively knowing that it still would never be as good as anything from Chinatown - but she didn’t have anything besides a couple of cans of soup in her pantry and that simply wouldn’t do.

The woman on the phone had promised her they’d have it to her within thirty minutes - busy Friday night - but after forty minutes and still no food, she decided to call back and check on the status of it.

And heard yelling in the hallway.

Grabbing her baseball bat just in case, she unlocked the doors and opened up, taking a quick peek and snorting at the scene before her.

There was her food. At the wrong door.

Two men were arguing - one of them clearly the delivery boy - and the other was a tall, lanky man with a mop of curly hair who seemed to do more talking with his hands than with his actual mouth.

“No no no, I’m sorry, but you have the wrong apartment!”

“Apartment number four fifteen! See - right here on the ticket-”

“I understand that, but I promise you I didn’t order takeout, so unless someone is playing a trick on me-”

“It’s mine!” She spoke up, stepping out of her apartment with a bashful smile, and she tucked the bat up under her arm as she approached the delivery boy.

“Sorry, I must’ve mumbled my apartment number when I gave the order. Should’ve been four _six_ teen.”

The delivery boy scowled at her, but since she produced the money and took the food, he wasn’t going to argue any further and ran away as quickly as he could, leaving the two new neighbors standing there awkwardly staring at one another.

“I’m really sor-”  
“Should’ve known it was-”  
“Sorry, you go fir-”  
“Where are my manne-”

They both stopped at once with bashful chuckles, but the tall man broke the silence a moment later.

“Please. Ladies first.”

She grinned at him. “I’m sorry for the mixup. First time ordering takeout since I moved in. I’ll be sure to enunciate better next time.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I actually just got home from work, but my coworkers like to play tricks sometimes. Chinese food is a fan favorite.”

She opened her mouth to ask why but decided against it, instead shifting the bag in her arms until it was resting more on her hip so she could extend a hand in greeting.

“I’m Delilah Jacobs. Nice to meet you…”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.” She noted that he was a touch hesitant to reach out and accept the shake, but did so anyway though it ended quickly and his hand immediately returned to his pocket.

“Listen, I um… I won’t keep you. Enjoy your dinner.”

“Wait-” She reached out towards him as she took a faltering step, nearly losing her hold on the bat still tucked under her arm but somehow keeping it all in place. “-I um… Look, I-I probably ordered _way_ too much food here. Definitely too much for just me. If you don’t have any plans, and since you just got home... “ She gave a small shrug. “...you could join me if you wanted?”

Spencer honestly stopped and thought about it for a second, and Delilah was just starting to feel a touch awkward about the suggestion when he gave a nod and a smile.

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

~+~+~+~

Spencer wasn’t sure what exactly had possessed him to agree to dinner with this total stranger - albeit a very pretty stranger - but he figured if anyone was going to figure out that she was a serial killer, it was most likely going to be him.

Probably.

“Sorry about the mess-” Delilah chirped as she led him inside her apartment, the mirror image of his own one-bedroom next door. “-moving is such a pain, you know? So many boxes to go through…”

“I understand.” He glanced around the space, noting the boxes marked ‘kitchen’ and ‘office’ and ‘other’ though he gave her another quick smile as she started pulling cartons of food out of the bag and setting them down on the table.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

“No, I’ve got it. But thank you. Could you get us some drinks though? I think there’s a couple of beers in the fridge if you want one too. If not, I know there’s plenty of bottled water…”

He nodded and turned his attentions towards the fridge, listening as she dug around in a drawer for some cutlery - he was silently praying for the inclusion of forks - and grabbed a beer for her and a bottle of water for himself out before returning his attentions to her.

Delilah still had her back turned to him, and he took a quick minute to assess her just like he did nearly everyone he came into contact with out of some deeply ingrained habit after his years at the BAU.

She was a touch on the taller side of average for a woman, probably around five foot eight, with a head of dark, thick curly hair. She had it tied up at that particular moment, but Spencer would hazard a guess that it probably came down to the center of her back when it was allowed to hang free.

She was also seemingly in good health, slender but not skinny. Perhaps a curvy athletic build? He tried thinking about how Morgan might describe her, but that just made him blush so instead he pushed a bit of hair behind his ear and instead rejoined her at the table.

She had both a fork and a set of chopsticks set out at both places.

“So, Doctor Spencer Reid…” She started after thanking him for the beer and popping off the cap. “...tell me a bit about yourself?”

He noted that she used the fork to scoop out her portion pork lo mein, leaving it in there for him to get some out as well, though she used the chopsticks to carefully pick up a bite of noodles.

“Oh, well, I um... I-I’m a criminal behaviorist with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico.”

“FBI, huh? That’s impressive. So, you catch bad guys all day?”

“I help.” He nodded, trying not to look to ashamed at the fact that he was clearly just using his fork to eat the noodles. “I’m part of a team. We’re all experts in different areas, which gives us a unique take on how to track down and catch the bad guys.”

“So, what are you a doctor of then, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I actually hold multiple doctorates in mathematics, chemistry and engineering, but I have other degrees as well.”

“You’re some kind of genius, aren’t you?”

He didn’t immediately notice the teasing look on her features and was about to inform her that yes, he was a genius, but then he realized she was grinning at him. A good grin. Not a making-fun-of-him kind of grin.

And he blushed, but grinned back.

“But uh… What about you? What do you do?”

“Well, nothing as impressive as all _that…_ ” She chuckled, taking another small swig of her beer. “...I’m a music teacher.”

He just finished putting a bite of food into his mouth, but he made a gesture with his hand to encourage her to keep going.

“I actually just moved to DC to take a new job as the choir director at Woodrow Wilson. I was in New York City before this, but needed to make a change, and Woodrow Wilson made the right offer.”

“Choir director? So you sing then, too?”

“Some, yes. But you know the old saying: ‘those who can’t do, teach.’”

He frowned at that, but couldn’t form a reply because his phone suddenly started buzzing and he jumped to dig it out of his pocket.

“I’m… Sorry. This is work. I need to take this.”

“Yeah, of course.”

He excused himself from the table and stepped closer to the door, sighing as he ended the call and returned his attentions to Delilah.

“I really hate to eat and run, but duty calls. But, this was lovely and thank you, so much, for letting me eat dinner with you. I um… I’d like to do this again sometime. If you’d like? I’ll make it up to you somehow…”

She’d risen to her feet as he’d gathered his bag from off the back of his chair, giving him another small smile as he started rambling a touch, but she nodded all the same.

“I’d like that.”

“Great, I’ll um… I’ll check in with you. Later. We’ll figure out the details.”

“Sounds good.”

He gave her another little awkward smile and a wave as he opened the door. “Have a good night.”

She nodded. “See you around, Spencer.”

And then he was out the door.

_“The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.” -Thomas Merton_


	2. Chinese Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “To read without reflecting is like eating without digesting.” -Edmund Burke
> 
> Spencer Reid absolutely, positively does not have a crush on his new roommate. Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive response to this little story! I'm sorry it's taken me a little while to update, but my work life is fairly busy and I can't promise that I'll always be able to update within a set schedule. I hope you continue to enjoy the story though!

_“To read without reflecting is like eating without digesting.” -Edmund Burke_

It wasn’t until the third day on their latest mission that Morgan finally asked the question that seemingly was on everyone’s minds.

“So, pretty boy, who is she?”

Spencer looked up from the map he was studying, blinking a bit owlishly at his surroundings before he frowned and shook his head, not entirely understanding the question.

“Who is who?”

“This girl you can’t stop thinking about.”

Spencer blushed, but shook his head again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh. You came into the briefing the other night smelling of Chinese food and you kept smiling to yourself. Now, we _all_ know of your shortcomings with Chinese food-”

“There’s absolutely nothing the matter with the food itself, I just don’t see the point in using a couple of number two pencils to try and ingest my meal-”

“But you _are_ grinning to yourself every now and then. And I haven’t seen you do that again in a hot minute, Reid.”

“He’s been blushing for no reason, too.” JJ chimed in and Spencer flopped back in his chair with a groan, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as he tried to come up with a reasonable excuse.

He couldn’t lie to them, but he didn’t have to tell them the whole truth either.

“I have this new neighbor. She just moved into the apartment next door to mine-”

“Uh huh. Told you it was a she.”

“And the other night there was a mixup with the Chinese delivery man. That’s all. That’s probably why you smelled the food on me.”

“Doesn’t explain the grins and the blushing.”

“Pretty boy’s got a crush.”

“Shut up. Both of you.”

Rossi called then wanting an update on the geographic profile, saving Reid from further torment.

At least for the moment.

~+~+~+~

It was another eight days after that before the team returned to DC from their mission out in Colorado - Reid was still trying to figure out how he was going to decompress after _this_ particular unsub - and he was practically dead on his feet as he made his way up the front steps of his apartment building.

He certainly hadn’t been expecting anyone else to be up and about yet at barely six in the morning, but he was just opening up the main doors when someone quite literally walked into him, spilling their thankfully iced coffee all over both of them.

“ _Shit!_ I’m so sorry-”

“No, no, I-”

“...Spencer?”

He blinked and then gave her a sleepy sort of half-bashful smile. “Delilah. Hi… Are you okay? I didn’t see you coming at all.”

“Yeah, no, I’m uh, I’m good.” She glanced down at her shirt and frowned, taking a quick peek at her watch. “Gonna need to run and grab a change of clothes though.”

“I can go and get you another cup of coffee if you’d like? I can meet you back here with it before you head off. Save you a couple of minutes, perhaps?”

“Really? Oh, I’d love that, Spencer, thank you! I don’t know how I’m gonna face today without it!”

He wanted to ask what she meant, but instead just told her it was the least he could do and turned to head back the way he came, thankful that there was a twenty four hour coffee shop just down the block from their apartments.

And, as promised, he was standing there with a fresh cup in hand as she once again emerged from the building.

“Thank you, Spencer, really. Hopefully I won’t be late now since i won’t have to make another stop.”

“I take it classes have started back then?”

“Today’s the first day actually.”

“I won’t keep you then.”

But still, she paused, and he noted that she was chewing gently on her bottom lip.

“Listen, about that dinner you suggested?”

“Yes?” He tried not to sound too excited because honestly she could very well be telling him that it wasn’t going to work out, and he wasn’t sure how he would take that given he’d just spent the last several days being teased by his coworkers about his new crush.

Which he absolutely, positively did not have.

“I um… I kinda figured you just got back into town and might not be up for it, but I was thinking maybe we could have that makeup dinner tonight?”

He blinked, having not expected her to offer meeting up with him again so soon, but apparently his mouth _was_ capable of working without his brain actively participating, because a moment later she was smiling at him again and nodding, telling him she’d see him tonight.

And then she was off, her curls bouncing behind her as she jogged towards the metro station, and he made a note with a little pride that her hair did, in fact, hit at just about the middle of her back when it was down.

~+~+~+~

It was well past six by the time Delilah made it back to the apartment, and a part of her was very tempted to knock on Spencer’s door and tell him she needed to take a raincheck, but there was a part of her that worried he’d be disappointed and look like a kicked puppy if she did that and honestly she couldn’t handle the guilt.

By the time she’d gotten to her floor, she’d already kicked off her heels though, having made a note to tuck a pair of spare flats into her bag for tomorrow, and she was digging around in her purse for her keys when she saw the carefully folded note taped to her door with her name carefully inked out on the front.

_Delilah,_

_Please let me know at your earliest convenience when you would most like to have dinner. I am awaiting your arrival home to place the order, as I was worried that if I ordered too soon, it might not still be hot by the time you were able to sit down to eat._

_Hope you had a pleasant day,  
~Spencer Reid_

She grinned to herself, quickly finding her keys and opening her door up enough to slide her purse and shoes inside before closing it back again and padding over to Spencer’s door.

He opened just after the first knock, and a part of her thought it was kind of adorable that he’d likely been standing right by the door waiting on her.

“Delilah! Hi!”

“Hello.”

“Did you um… Want to come in? Have a seat?”

“Actually, I just wanted to let you know I was home. Your note said you were waiting on me to order…”

“Right. Didn’t want to just have food sitting out. Food safety becomes a concern after any dish has been sitting out for any given period of time and I-” He cut himself off, blushing a touch and giving her another bashful smile. “Sorry. I tend to ramble sometimes.”

“It’s fine. Doesn’t bother me in the slightest. But I um… I think I’m gonna go change if that’s okay? I’ve been in these clothes all day and could use something a little more comfortable.”

“Yeah, absolutely! Was there something in particular you wanted for dinner, or…?”

“Surprise me!” She grinned before stepping away from his door and back towards her own apartment, slipping inside and closing the door back behind her with a soft click.

And she completely missed the look of sheer _panic_ that crossed Reid’s face with those two words.

As it was though, when she knocked on his door about about ten minutes later, she was looking decidedly more relaxed - though Reid would note that she didn’t seem to be a fan of shoes and was walking around in just a pair of socks - and her hair was up in a loose ponytail, but her shoulders were definitely more relaxed and her smile was a little less forced now than it had been even just a few minutes prior.

She entered as he opened the door for her, taking a quick look around his apartment and noting the books literally _everywhere,_ the neat little stacks of papers and the nicknacks - was a little taken aback to note that he didn’t seem to have much in the way of technology - but somehow she wasn’t surprised by anything she was seeing.

“Bit more organized than my place, I can tell you that.” She turned another teasing smile towards him. “Perhaps you should come help me arrange my books.”

He grinned and gave a nod. “I’d be happy to help with that if you wanted. I’m pretty well-versed in the Dewey decimal system, though I don’t know how dedicated you are to keeping your books separated by genre.”

She gave a shrug. “Most of them are on musical theory anyway, so I’m not sure how much you’d really be able to sort.”

“Speaking of… How was your first day of classes?”

“Terribly wonderful.” She chuckled, taking a seat on his couch when he motioned for her to do so, and she was a little surprised - if pleasantly so - when he offered her a small glass of wine a moment later as he took a seat in the chair opposite her.

“How so?”

“Oh, first day jitters.” She shrugged again, trying to brush it off. “You know how that goes.”

“I always looked forward to school. The prospect of learning something new has always excited me, though as I get older I find that it’s harder and harder to do so.”

“How do you mean?”

“I have an eidetic memory. I have a very difficult time forgetting things, so once I’ve learned something, I can’t ever really forget it.”

“...given your line of work-” She murmured, her eyes a little sad all of a sudden, “-I’m sure that must make things difficult sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” He agreed, crossing one leg over the other, and Delilah was struck again by how slender this man was, but at least he didn’t appear to be malnourished. Just… Skinny as hell. “But there’s a lot of good that comes out of my job too. And I wouldn’t want to forget that for anything.”

“I can understand that.”

She was interrupted from saying anything further by a sudden knock on the door, and Spencer sprang to his feet to retrieve what was most likely their food.

He’d ordered Chinese again, she noted, though as he pulled out containers and the smell hit her, she knew immediately that he hadn’t ordered the same thing as last time.

“...how on _Earth_ did you know that I liked Lazji?!”

“I’m a profiler.” Spencer replied, looking decidedly pleased with himself. “It’s what I do.”

“God, I haven’t had this in _years…_ Not since grad school, I think?”

He was still pulling out a few other containers - fried rice, beef and broccoli - but Delilah was so taken by the fact that he’d ordered her Lazji that she couldn’t really think to speak again for a bit.

She was a couple of bites in, in fact, before she realized that once again he was using a fork, and she watched him for a moment before speaking up.

“...do you know how to use chopsticks?”

“They don’t make sense to me.” He was quick to reply, and she realized that she’d either stumbled upon a sensitive subject, or it was something he was asked about fairly regularly, so she just nodded and let it go.

She was a couple more bites in - but was taking a break to take a sip of her drink because _mercy_ she’d forgotten how spicy this dish was - when she noticed him looking at her.

“...something wrong?”

“I was just wondering… How did you learn to use them? Chopsticks, I mean?”

She leaned back in her chair for a moment, thinking back, though she gave a small shake of her head before she replied, a few stray curls falling out of her updo with the movement.

“I don’t really remember, if we’re being honest. It was probably sometime in high school. I remember I used to use them as batons when I was pretending to conduct choirs in my bedroom… I think it was my Aunt who taught me how to use them though. Said it was a good skill to have and would help with dexterity later in life.”

“How so?”

“I have to play the piano a lot for work. Nothing more than picking out notes and the occasional chords to make sure my choir is on pitch, mind you, but it’s important that my fingers stay nimble enough to do so. If my accompanist can’t be there, I need to be able to step in and take over, you know?”

Spencer nodded again, spearing a piece of broccoli with his fork before chewing carefully, clearly thinking about something but it seemed as though he were a touch hesitant to broach the subject.

“Could you teach me sometime?”

She blinked up at him again, but smiled.

“Sure. Though maybe not tonight. I’d hate to distract you from your dinner.”

Okay. So maybe he did have a little bit of a crush on her.

_“Chinese food tries to engage the mind, not just the palate. To provoke the intellect.” -Nicole Mones_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for sticking with me so far. Let me know what you think?


	3. Music Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.” -Saint Basil_
> 
> Doctor Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, who apparently plays piano when there's a blackout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback you've already sent me! It really means a lot, and I hope you continue to enjoy!

_“A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.” -Saint Basil_

It was a late Friday night, a couple of months after Spencer had met his new neighbor that found him slowly trudging up the steps of the apartment building towards his fourth floor apartment.

Power was out due to a bad storm, so the elevator was out of service.

Reid was the first person to admit that he wasn’t the _fittest_ of FBI agents, but he’d been trying to do better over the last few years, so by the time he got to the landing he needed he was winded and a touch red in the face, but he didn’t feel like he was about to have a heart attack.

Score one Reid.

Making his way towards his door as he dug around in his bag for his keys, he let out a heavy sigh of relief that he was home and could enjoy a couple of days off.

Even if the power _was_ out.

Frowning as he pushed his way into his apartment, he made quick work of shedding his bag and coat, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt as he made his way towards his windows to open them up and get some fresh air.

It was still raining, but anything was better than the stagnant atmosphere that had settled into the rooms and he took in a deep breath of the cooler air around him, about to go see if he could scrounge something up for dinner when he heard the sound of music coming from somewhere close by.

From next door, actually.

Looked like Delilah was trying to get some fresh air as well.

He paused, contemplating what he should do, but he was still a little too wound up from the case to attempt sleep, so instead he carefully climbed out onto the fire escape that he shared with Delilah and moved to peer in at her through the open window and then gently knocked on the windowsill.

“Knock knock.”

“Oh!” She jumped and whirled around at the sound and he immediately threw his hands up in apology.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you!”

“Spencer…” Those large brown eyes of hers slid closed and she pressed a hand to her chest, though there was a smile spreading across her features as she reopened them and turned to face him a bit more fully.

He tried not to stare, but she was dressed in a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top, and it was difficult for him to not immediately take note of the soft curve of her thighs or the toned musculature of her upper arms.

“Sorry… I just got home and I heard the music-”

“Oh, I can turn it down if you want.”

He shook his head. “No, no please… I um, I liked the sound of it.”

“...did you want to come in?” She asked, voice soft, and there was an overall gentleness to her that Reid was drawn to.

Like a moth to a flame.

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

She got to her feet and held her hands out towards him in invitation. “Would I be asking if I thought you were?”

“Well, possibly. You could just be asking to be polite and are expecting me to turn you down-”

“Spencer-”

“It’s late at night, you could be getting ready to go to bed soon-”

“S P E N C E R-”

“You could be expecting company soon-”

“SPENCER! Stop!!”

He froze, eyebrows drawing together as he straightened up, but she’d taken hold of his hands at some point and wasn’t letting him withdraw from her completely.

“...I’m inviting you in because I want to.”

And then he was standing in her apartment and she was going to get them something to drink and he was left to look around.

He’d been in there a handful of times previously since she’d first moved in, but mostly just to stand at her doorway when there was a mixup with mail or even when the Chinese place delivered to the wrong apartment again. Work kept him away from home more often than not though they’d talked briefly about maybe trying to do dinner again at some point when his schedule allowed for it.

Things were neat and organized in her apartment, though it looked lived in. There was a desk in one corner with some papers scattered about it, and a piano along one wall that he remembered her saying she’d purchased just after she moved here. Said she needed it to practice music that she was going to be introducing to her students.

But tonight was the first night he’d heard her actively playing.

“Here you go.” He jumped slightly as she announced her return, though he gave her a small smile as she handed him a bottle of beer and he did his best to ignore the way the candles she’d had to light reflected off the tight curls of her hair.

“You look like you could use a drink.” Her eyebrows drew together a touch. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything stronger at the moment…”

He nodded, taking a swig before he answered, though she’d already moved to sit on the bench of her piano to face him, extending her free hand out to gesture that he should take a seat in the chair next to her.

“...rough week at work?”

“They always are.” He took another swig of his beer, noting that Delilah looked a little shocked at his honesty. “But yeah, this… Was a rough week.”

He didn’t realize she was close enough to touch him, but suddenly her hand was resting on his knee and he jumped slightly at the contact.

But definitely didn’t move away.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“Yes, but, I’d rather spare you the details. No one deserves to have those kinds of nightmares.”

Delilah was quiet for a second, though her hand tightened a fraction on his knee. “...what about you?”

He blinked, eyes dropping to study her hand and his own came up, unbidden, to gently rest over it, fingers curling until he was just holding it.

“I can compartmentalize.”

Her hand tightened its grip on his a fraction further, her fingers warm beneath his and he wondered how long she’d been playing piano before he’d interrupted her.

“Is that what you’ve always done then? Just… put it away in a box.”

“...I can never _forget_ , Delilah.” When had their fingers laced together? “I remember every moment of every day of my life, the good and the bad and the truly terrible, and I don’t know how else _to_ cope.”

“Do… Do you ever _talk_ to anyone about it?”

“Sure. Sometimes. I have friends at work and all of us are required to get regular mental health checks to make sure we’re not ‘cracking under pressure’.”

He knew that wasn’t entirely what she meant, but how could he assure her that he really _was_ okay when sometimes he might’ve wondered about that a bit himself?

“But really, I’m fine. I promise.”

“I’ll always be here to listen if you want, Spencer.” She squeezed his hand again, giving him a gentle smile. “Even if you don’t want to give me the details, I won’t turn you away.”

He gave her a little lopsided smile of his own before straightening up in his chair again.

“So, what were you working on before I interrupted you?”

She straightened up in her seat as well, slowly untangling her fingers from his and turning a bit towards her piano so she could grab her sheet music and hold it out to him.

“The Durufle Requiem. We’re performing it this year for the big Spring Concert, but I’m starting the legwork on it now to make it easier when I introduce my students to it in a couple of weeks.”

“I used to listen to this when I studied in Elementary School.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” She giggled, shifting a bit so she could scoot down to one end of her bench before she patted the space next to her in a clear invitation for him to join her, and she waited until he’d done so before going on.

“It’s a complex composition, to be sure, but it’s much easier vocally for high schoolers to perform compared to say… Beethoven’s Fifth.”

“It was based off of Gregorian Chant which isn’t overly complex in and of itself, but one of the things that Durufle did to make his own was the additional layering of female voices and much more liberal harmonies.”

“Plus the additions of a full orchestra versus the organ, though that’s included sporadically throughout as well.”

“Which is your favorite movement?”

She had to stop and think about it for a second, setting her beer bottle - now almost empty - up on top of the piano and Spencer wondered why he hadn’t noticed the coaster there before now.

A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Morgan reminded him _exactly_ why, but he ignored it.

“...I think the Pie Jesu, though I have no idea how we’re going to execute it with my choir.”

“How do you mean?”

She was flipping in her sheet music until she’d found the movement in question, sighing as her fingers idly began plucking out notes.

“Well, I have two options: first, I could hold auditions within the choir to try and find the right mezzo and risk disappointing a whole bunch of teenagers in the process, _or_ I can see if I can hire a professional to come in and perform it for us. I’m already going to have to hire a baritone for those solos. None of my boys _quite_ have the depth needed in their voices yet.”

She didn’t want to risk hurting any of her students. Wanted to be fair to them. It was something that Reid could appreciate and he gave a nod of understanding, noting that she was still idly playing the opening few notes of the movement.

“...do you know it?”

“Hmmm?” She looked confused.

“The part, I mean. I’m sure you’ve studied it in detail preparing for it, but have you ever sung the mezzo solo yourself?”

She blushed but shook her head. “I’m not much of a singer, Spencer.”

“Nonsense. Music is just math.”

He reached out and played the same few notes that she had been, raising his eyebrows at her to encourage her. And then played the rest of the intro.

“...I didn’t know you played.”

He shrugged, starting the intro over again. “I don’t, really, but the basic concept is easy. Each note is a mathematical computation so really-”

“The basic concepts of music are mathematical, yes, but…” She gave a shake of her head, her curls bouncing slightly with the motion. “...singing is more than that.”

He frowned, starting the intro over again, but she kept going before he could comment.

“You could be the most technically proficient singer on the planet, but if you don’t have that… that _passion_ for singing, your voice is going to sound flat. One-dimensional. It’s about _feeling_ it, not just understanding it.”

He started the intro over one more time, and was only mildly surprised when she joined in with the mezzo solo.

Spencer would be the first to admit that he’d probably heard nearly every recorded version of this piece at some point in his life. He’d even seen it live a couple of times.

But Delilah, well… Delilah was different.

Her voice was soft, fluid but bright. Like a warm rainstorm on a crisp autumn day. It shouldn’t’ve worked, but it did. It wasn’t that robust, round tone that opera singers used when they were performing, but something more natural. 

He wouldn’t go so far as to say it was perfect, but… It suited her.

When the piece was done and his fingers were left resting on the keys he turned towards her, studying her profile in the candlelight and wondering where her thoughts on self-worth had come from.

“That was beautiful.” He whispered instead.

She might’ve blushed then before reaching for her beer bottle, making quick work of downing the last of what was in it before she got to her feet and headed towards the kitchen.

“You want another beer?”

“No, thank you. I’m still working on the first one you gave me.”

He could hear her puttering about in the kitchen for a moment, though he wasn’t sure exactly what she was doing, but just as he got to his feet to go check on her, the room suddenly flooded with light and he had to blink against the sudden harshness.

“Shit!” He heard her exclaim, clearly having the same reaction as him and he lowered his hand to squint as she started going back around and turning off some of the lights, blowing out candles as she went.

“You know, I um… I should probably go. Check and make sure everything is okay in my apartment.”

“You sure? I promise I’m not throwing you out…”

“No, no. I’m sure. But thank you for the company. And the song. It really was lovely.”

This time he knew he wasn’t imagining the blush that spread across her cheeks, nor could he entirely stop his.

“Sure, yeah. Um… Anytime Spencer.”

“Goodnight Delilah.”

And with that, he climbed back out through her window to the fire escape and back into his own apartment where he shut the window tight and tried his best not to hum the Pie Jesu to himself as he got ready for bed.

_“Music is the mediator between the spiritual and the sensual life.” -Ludwig van Beethoven_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, fluffy times are over. The plot kicks in in the next chapter. Prepare yourselves.


	4. Sign Language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Spencer Reid has a new neighbor. She likes to remind him to eat sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for the amazing feedback so far! I really appreciate it!  
> This chapter marks the entrance of our unsub, and while I have tried to keep the descriptions from becoming too graphic, please note that there is canon-typical language and violence present. I've updated the tags just to be on the safe side, but if I missed one, or if you need me to add some, please don't hesitate to let me know! I want to make sure everyone stays comfortable while reading!

_“I can calculate the motion of heavenly bodies, but not the madness of people.” - Sir Isaac Newton_

Morgan was teasing him about something, but he was in the middle of cross-checking statistics on the increase of residents in a given metropolitan area compared to the traffic flows and general ability to navigate within that metropolitan area, so really he was only halfway paying attention.

“Uh huh. See? Told you there was a girl…”

Well _that_ certainly got his attention. “Wait. What? No-”

“Too late, pretty boy.” Morgan was chuckling, and perhaps it wouldn’t’ve bothered Spencer so much if Emily and Garcia weren’t maybe giggling a little bit too. “You’re blushing.”

“Why do you always assume there’s a girl?”

“Is there a _boy_?” Emily countered and Reid just rolled his eyes and returned to his work.

“There isn’t anybody.”

But then Hotch was joining them and as usual, he meant business, so the laughter died down and another moment found them all in the conference room as JJ started pulling up her briefing material and passing around case files to all of them.

“Barbara Daniels, taken from her home just outside of Cincinnati five years ago and found dead two weeks later with immense physical trauma to all areas of the body. Given the severity of the trauma, local authorities believed drugs might’ve played a role in the suspect’s motive. Her son, Gil, had been arrested a half dozen times for possession and dealing meth. Cops originally thought he was involved somehow.”

“Were drugs ever found in _her_ system?” Morgan asked, having not gotten to that part of the file yet.

“No, though, strangely enough there was also no evidence of DNA from her attacker anywhere on her body.”

Suddenly the tension in the room went up a little bit.

“No arrests were ever made due to a lack of evidence, but considering it didn’t happen again, authorities let it go cold. Then, three months after, another woman - Amali Grissom - disappeared from her home. Same time of night, again no sign of forced entry or any signs of a struggle. Body found two weeks later in the same condition as Daniel’s and once again no signs of DNA from the unsub were ever found on the body.”

“So, we’re talking potential serial here then?”

“Yes, and-”

“What’s going on with the positioning of the hands?” Spencer interjected, shooting an apologetic look at JJ for cutting her off. “For starters, both women were bound at the wrist using three zip ties when one would’ve been enough to keep them from moving.”

“Authorities noted that in both cases as well. With the Daniel’s case, they thought that perhaps the unsub was being overly cautious, but then when it showed up again with the Grissom case, they started thinking it was part of the unsubs general MO.”

“More than that though,” Spencer went on, studying the close-up pictures of the women’s hands, lips slightly parted and head tilted just a touch to the side, “their fingers have been posed.”

“How do you mean?” Hotch asked, everyone else in the room grabbing their copies of the same pictures.

“It’s sign language.” Emily piped up. “Both of their hands were made to form the sign for the initial of their first name.”

“That… Makes this next one all the more disturbing.” JJ murmured, and once again all eyes were on her. “Ursula McCay. Disappeared from her home three _weeks_ after Grissom was found, once again found dead two weeks later. Same MO across the board.”

Her pictures were brought up next, and all eyes immediately went to her hands.

“...A ‘B’, an ‘A’, and a ‘U.’” Rossi spoke up, already saying what everyone else was thinking. “Surely that can’t just be a coincidence?”

“But why now?” Emily asked. “This case was nearly four and a half _years_ ago. Why weren’t we contacted then?”

“Local field office was called in and they made an arrest. This man-” JJ pulled another picture up on the screen. “-Jeremiah Siler, fit the profile to a T _and_ he confessed. He went to trial and was sentenced to the death penalty. He was supposed to have been executed four days ago.”

“Wait. _Supposed_ to have been?” Morgan asked.

“Another woman was found last week. Belinda Averies. Same MO. Except the body was found in Virginia. A stay was enacted until they can figure out if this was a copycat, a partner, or if they had the wrong guy all along.”

“Do we have pictures yet of the hands?” Spencer asked.

JJ pulled them up.

“Neither the positioning of the hands, nor the use of three zip ties was ever mentioned in any of the press releases.”

“That’s definitely a ‘B’ again though.” Rossi again. “Think our unsub is trying to get our attention again?”

“And is he going to follow the same timeline as before?” Hotch added.

“Get word out to local PD.” Rossi continued. “Tell them to report any and all missing persons claims to us. Reid, I want you to start working on victimology. See if you can find anything that links these four women together so we might get ahead of this guy.”

He nodded, but… So much for his dinner with Delilah tonight.

~+~+~+~

He’d shot her a text telling her that he was going to need to get a raincheck on their dinner together - it wasn’t a _date_ , he kept telling himself, just two friends hanging out. She was going to start teaching him how to use chopsticks! - and while she said in her response that she was bummed, she also said she understood and ended the conversation with a simple smiling emoji.

That was a good sign, right?

He thought about calling her, figuring he’d be able to tell more from her voice than he could a few typed words and an emoji, but then he took notice of the time and realized that she’d still be in school. Probably on her lunch break, but she’d be returning to classes soon enough.

He _also_ thought about asking Garcia, but Garcia would start asking questions that he wasn’t ready to answer, and then Morgan would find out and it would be a _thing_ and he was starting to have a little bit of an anxiety attack just thinking about it, so he derailed that thought immediately.

So, instead, Spencer packed up his things and headed home, settling down on the floor of his apartment with all of his briefing materials spread around him in the hopes of finding something that might stand out to him.

_Barbara Daniels. Aged 46. Straight blonde hair, blue eyes. 5’4”, 137 pounds. Lived entire life in Cincinnati area. Divorced. One child, Gil Daniels. Grocery manager at local supermarket. Catholic, but not particularly active in the Church or in the community in general. Mostly just went to work and then back home. Smoked and drank, though no signs of anything illegal in her system or home despite son’s activity in local Meth rings. Ears pierced, small flower tattoo on left ankle._

_Amali Grissom, 23. Straight red hair, brown eyes. 5’ 11”, 152 pounds. Engaged, no children. Full-time yoga instructor. Transplant from California when fiance got new job with an insurance firm - he was ruled out as suspect due to business dealings - though originally from Seattle, Washington. Non-Denominational, fiance Jewish. Very active with helping local homeless community - spent no less than three nights a week at local shelter and every weekend there helping with food prep. Did not smoke, drank socially. Pescatarian. No narcotics in system nor any ties to drug community. Ears, nose and belly piercings. Multiple tattoos._

_Ursula McCay, 71. African American. 5’ 6”, 177 pounds. Widowed, four children, all girls. Retired secretary from local high school. Originally from Columbus, moved to Cincinnati when both she and her husband retired and wanted a “change of scenery.” Protestant, very active in Church community. Husband smoked, she did not. Neither drank, no presence of narcotics though third daughter had been arrested for possession of marijuana while in college. “Meat and potatoes” family. Ears pierced, no tattoos._

_Belinda Averies. 18 - week away from her 19th birthday. African American and Italian, 5’ 1” 112 pounds. Single, lesbian, steady girlfriend. Attending school at Georgetown - art major with a focus in photography, lived in DC area whole life. Wiccan. Smoked, drank, no sign of narcotics, though girlfriend was reportedly doing a line of cocaine when authorities came to their apartment. Vegan. No piercings, multiple tattoos._

He had to sit back and take a breath after going through all the details of that last file.

“...you would’ve been nineteen today…”

He jumped as a sudden knock came to his door, immediately putting him on edge because he hadn’t been expecting any company.

“Uh… Who is it?”

“It’s me.” Came a soft, feminine voice from the other side. “Delilah.”

He was on his feet in an instant, tucking a stray bit of hair behind his ear - and he made a mental note to get a haircut again soon - and he was biting down gently on his lower lip as he opened his door.

“Delilah… Hi. What um… What are you doing here?”

She blushed - and wasn’t _that_ a sight to behold? - before holding out a bag towards him. “I know you said you wanted a raincheck on dinner tonight - and I don’t want to intrude on your work - but you _do_ need to eat. Thought I’d bring you something to keep your energy up. It’s um… Mei Fun and some egg rolls.”

“This is-Delilah, thank you.” He beamed at her as he carefully took the bag, holding it close to his chest before he swung the door open a little bit further. “Did you want to come in?”

“No! No, um… I won’t keep you. Like I said, I know you’re busy…”

He noticed she was actively trying _not_ to look over his shoulder into the room where the papers and pictures were scattered about and he made a face that said he clearly understood.

It wasn’t the sort of thing that most people could stomach looking at, after all.

“Right, well. Thank you again. This… Means a lot.”

Her smile brightened a touch, and Spencer had to remember how to keep a grip on things.

“Well, if you need a break, let me know. I’ll be up for a while yet. Getting ready for midterms, and all that…”

“Yeah, yeah I might. Thank you.”

She grinned at him but then stepped back towards her apartment with a little wave of her fingers, and Spencer made sure to wait until she was safely back in her apartment and he heard the lock click before doing the same.

Better safe than sorry, after all.

He grabbed a plate from the cabinet and dished up some of the food she’d brought him, carefully closing the containers back up and putting them in the fridge before he returned to his little nest.

He got about halfway through before he was distracted by the papers and pictures again, the images managing to turn him off from eating anything else, and with a deep sigh he set it down on his coffee table and pulled the pictures close again, looking there for more clues.

It was midnight before he looked up again, when he decided he needed a break, but it was late and he was sure Delilah was probably sleeping now and what kind of crazy man would he be if he disturbed her at this hour of the night and maybe he shouldn’t’ve had that second cup of coffee.

The third and fourth cups he couldn’t even _begin_ to have an excuse for.

Still no discernable patterns. The only thing any of the victims had in common was that they were female. The first three lived in the same city, but not even close to the same neighborhoods. Their bodies had been dumped in entirely different places with nothing immediately seemingly the same about any of those areas.

It almost seemed like those women had been chosen just for their _names_. Just to get the attention of the BAU.

So where did that leave the fourth victim?

After pouring over all of the pictures, Spencer was sure that Belinda’s murder wasn’t the work of a copycat, and it was looking more and more like Jeremiah Siler was part of a duo.

_The submissive one. Took the blame because the dominant one - the one who did the killing themselves - ordered him to._

But did that mean that _this_ unsub had gotten themselves a new partner? Or were they acting alone now.

He would need to speak to Jeremiah himself, but he wasn’t likely to be able to do so at midnight when he was hyped up on coffee and his thoughts were racing. He wasn’t likely to be able to sleep either, but he needed to at least attempt it.

The dark circles under his eyes certainly didn’t need any help on that front, did they?

_“I shall give you hunger, and pain, and sleepless nights. Also beauty, and satisfactions known to few, and glimpses of the heavenly life. None of these you shall have continually, and of their coming and going you shall not be foretold.” -Howard Lindsay_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had actually planned on waiting a couple of days before uploading this chapter, but with the impending arrival of Hurricane Florence - I live in the Charleston, SC area - I thought it prudent to go ahead and post now. I'm not planning on evacuating, but I might lose power for a couple of days, and I don't want to keep you lovelies waiting.


	5. Peppermint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Spencer Reid has a new neighbor. Apparently she knows a thing or two about migraines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings loved ones! In an effort to appease the Writing Gods - and maybe Thor? - I'm posting the next chapter a little early in the hopes that maybe I won't lose power with this massive storm that's looming closer. If I post it early, maybe I wouldn't have actually needed to, right?
> 
> At any rate, I'm incredibly grateful to the warm reception this story has continued to receive and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.
> 
> Also, as a side note because apparently I fail at remembering to mention key details, Delilah's faceclaim is Emmy Rossum of "Phantom of the Opera" and "Shameless" fame. For those who might be unfamiliar with the term, if I were the one directing this as an actual episode, she's the woman I would cast in the role :)

_”Suffering is basically the mind’s refusal to accept reality as it is.” -Marcus Thomas_

“You look tired, boy wonder.”

Spencer jumped as a cup of tea was put down by his elbow, straightening up in his chair as he turned tired eyes up towards Garcia, though he still gave her a small smile of thanks.

“Didn’t sleep much last night. I was trying to figure out a connection between our victims in this case.”

“Any luck?” Garcia asked, voice quiet as she took a seat on the edge of Spencer’s desk. She looked hopeful.

“Unfortunately, not. _But_ I don’t think Jeremiah Siler was working alone.”

He was interrupted from continuing at that moment by Morgan and Emily coming into the office, both of them looking a little tired but not overly so. At least _someone_ had managed to get some sleep the night before.

Rossi and Hotch were talking in Rossi’s office, looking serious, but then again Hotch pretty much always looked serious, so it was hard to say one way or the other whether they were discussing a case or who’d won the big game the night before.

But when they emerged at the sight of Morgan and Emily coming in, Spencer knew what they had been talking about.

It was only a few minutes later that found all of them once more ensconced in the briefing room, but this time it was Spencer leading the way, recapping what he had figured out the night before.

“I don’t believe that Jeremiah Siler was working alone. I think he was the submissive in a dual partnership, and I believe that the dominant unsub is trying to get our attention again.”

“You think he’s taunting us? Showing us that he’s still out there while his partner rots?” Rossi was asking the questions, but it was fairly clear that they were largely rhetorical. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen something like this.”

“I’d like to interview Siler. See if I can get any information from him about his Dom and maybe why they’re specifically trying to get our attention.” Spencer was trying to keep from tapping his fingers against the table top. The caffeine was starting to kick in again. “Clearly they think they’re smarter than us, but I don’t entirely understand why they waited so long between attacks.”

“Take JJ with you.” Rossi agreed. “We’ll check out the dumpsite here and the victim’s apartment. While you’re in Ohio, see if you can track down anything on the previous victims that might give us a better idea as to how they’re connected.”

An hour later, Spencer and JJ were on their way to Ohio.

~+~+~+~

“...you okay Spence?”

He lifted his eyes from the book he was reading at the question, blinking up at JJ and watching as she moved to take a seat across from him.

“You only call me Spence when you’re worried about me.”

“Yeah, well, newsflash: I’m always worried about you.” Her words were teasing but her eyes _weren’t_. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week or so. What’s up?”

He shook his head, closing his book and setting it aside before he moved to fold his hands in his lap, doing his best to keep from worrying his lower lip between his teeth. JJ knew his tells, after all.

“I don’t understand this case.”

“How do you mean?” She curled up in her seat a bit and rested her chin in her hand as she turned a curious glance to him.

He sighed. “The victimology doesn’t make sense. Aside from the fact that they were all women, the victims don’t seem to have a single thing in common. There’s nothing to suggest that the dumpsites are significant - just convenient. I’m starting to think that the first three victims were chosen purely for their names.”

“Just to get our attention?”

“Yeah.”

“But then why wait so long to continue?” She countered. “Why not choose another victim as soon as Siler was incarcerated to show that we got the wrong guy?”

“Siler confessed to all three abductions and murders. He fit the profile. Our other unsub probably instructed Siler to do so, hoping we’d catch on that it was the wrong person and give chase again, but we weren’t even assigned the case.”

“I don’t remember it ever even crossing my desk.” JJ admitted with a small shrug, though Spencer noted a faint furrow between her eyebrows that suggested maybe she was thinking about going back and checking again when they returned to DC.

“You quite literally pick our battles for us, JJ.” Spencer soothed, his voice low and calm. “You look at the multitude of dark sins that plague this country and intuitively know where we’re needed the most. The bad guy was caught. You can’t blame yourself.”

“Tell that to Belinda Averies’ family…”

Spencer couldn’t really form a good argument for that one.

~+~+~+~

The interview with Jeremiah Siler was… Strange. Exceedingly.

First and foremost, he wouldn’t answer any of Spencer’s questions, but instead chose to tell Spencer over and over again that he was too skinny and needed to “eat a damn cheeseburger.”

But then, when JJ asked the very same question immediately after, he would give a reply. It might’ve been a vague reply, but Siler was definitely more receptive to JJ than he was to Spencer, and honestly Spencer was used to the insults about his weight so he withstood them so JJ knew exactly what questions to ask.

He was a bit _more_ insulted, however, when Siler used a sexually-charged slur and it was quickly decided that the interview was over.

But it made the gears in Spencer’s head start to turn, and they’d only just made it out of the interview room when JJ turned to him with a curious glance of her own.

“You’ve got that look.”

“I don’t think our Dom is male.”

JJ nodded. “He responded more to me without question. I wouldn’t say he was _eager_ to help, but definitely more responsive to a woman in a position of authority.”

She looked a little sympathetic all of a sudden, and Spencer had a fairly good idea what she was going to say before she even said it.

“I’m sorry you had to take the abuse though.”

He shrugged. “Not the first time any of those words have been hurled at me. Though, that last one was a bit more… Colorful than I’m used to hearing.”

“Still,” she reached out a hand to rest on his upper arm, “doesn’t mean you should have to hear it.” She gave his arm a squeeze before releasing it so they could make their way back to the guardstand and retrieve their personal effects.

He gave her a small - but tight - smile, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked though as soon as they got into the car she was calling Rossi to give him the update, leaving Spencer to look out the window and watch the scenery go by as they left the prison and watched it shrink in the mirrors.

There was a hint of a dull ache settling in behind his eyes, but it was probably just the lack of sleep and the benefits of caffeine wearing off, and he made a mental note to get something without caffeine in it to drink with dinner so he could hopefully get a few hours of sleep in on the plane.

~+~+~+~

“So you really think our dominant unsub is female?” Morgan asked, his voice a tad unsure about those words, but Morgan had learned to trust his little brother over the years.

“It was the way he reacted to JJ. He was… Polite. Not necessarily forthcoming, but certainly more willing to talk to her than he was to me.”

He hadn’t mentioned the insults and slurs. They didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things anyway.

“But how could a man who seemingly has such great respect for women turn around and do the things to them that he’s admitted to doing.”

“Because his Mistress told him to do it.” Rossi interjected. “We’re dealing with a Dom who has groomed Siler for _years_ to the point that he would probably kill himself if she told him to do it. Wouldn’t even question it. He would do absolutely _anything_ it took to keep her happy.”

“Including kidnapping, torturing and murdering innocent women just for the sake of getting our attention…” Emily murmured half to herself, a faint look of disgust tugging at the corners of her eyes. “...Reid, do you think he’d have the same reaction to me as he did to JJ?”

“It’s hard to say.” Spencer shook his head, a stray curl falling in front of his eyes with the motion, and he tossed his head slightly to dispel it. He _really_ needed that haircut. “He’s certainly taken a liking to JJ, though I can’t say one way or the other if that would hold up with another woman in the room or if a more masculine male presence alongside her would turn his attentions differently.”

“That’s something we may want to look into,” Rossi piped up again, “and it might give us a better idea as to who we’re looking for. None of the female victims had anything in common, but maybe one of you has something more in common with his Dom.”

“I think that’s something we may want to explore tomorrow though.” Hotch commented, taking a quick glance at his watch. “It’s late, and we’ve all been at this long enough for one day. Everyone go home and try to get some sleep. We’ll go over the rest of the details of the most recent crime scene tomorrow, nine a.m.”

Spencer blinked but rose to his feet as everyone else did, suddenly glad that he was going to be getting away from the fluorescent bulbs of the office.

Had they always caused those weird little squiggly lines at the corners of his vision before?

~+~+~+~

By the time Spencer stumbled out of the elevator and made it to his apartment door, the dull ache and squiggly lines had turned into a full-blown migraine, and even though he knew he looked like a complete _tool_ with his sunglasses on at nearly nine o’clock at night, they were the only thing keeping him from breaking down in tears from the pain in his head.

Swearing as he dropped his keys for the third time while fumbling to get them into the lock, he didn’t hear the door to the apartment next door open, nor did he hear anyone approach until suddenly a soft voice was murmuring at him to be still and “let me help,” a warm hand gently taking hold of his and helping him inside before leading him over to the couch and helping him lay down.

“Easy, Spencer…” Delilah soothed, and Spencer wondered if her voice had always been that calm, her hand always so cool.

“...just stay here. I’m going to get something to help, okay?”

He tried nodding, whimpered, whimpered again when she carefully took his sunglasses off but she was trying her best to be quiet and he hadn’t heard any clicks of lights turning on besides the one side lamp on his desk.

A long moment passed before she returned to his side, and he suspected that she was kneeling on the floor next to the couch as she encouraged him to lay more-fully on his back, even going so far as to help him do so before she place a cool, damp rag over his forehead and eyes and then gently began rubbing his temples.

“Just breathe, okay?” She instructed, voice still that same low cadence as before. “Focus on just that. Take a slow breath in… Let it fill your lungs… Feel your belly expand with the effort. Let it linger…”

She pulled her hands away from his temple, but then one of them went to rest on his abdomen, right over his diaphragm, and he tried not to tense with the touch.

“...slowly start to let it out, feel my hand fall with it and once your lungs are empty push my hand back up. Don’t rush it, Spencer… Shh shh shh… Easy… Just breathe.”

She stayed with him for a solid twenty minutes like that, just helping him breathe and push through the worst of the pain and slowly he could feel it start to creep back into the dark again and he lifted a hand with the intent of resting it over hers but instead lifted it the rest of the way to push the cloth off his eyes and more-fully onto his forehead.

“...thank you.”

“Anytime.” She smiled. “Can I get you anything? Glass of water or juice or something? Your hands are a little shaky…”

He hadn’t even noticed that, but he gave a careful nod all the same.

She got to her feet again and went to start digging around in his kitchen, and in her absence, Spencer took the opportunity to get back into a sitting position, though he let his head fall back against the back of the couch as he stretched his long legs out in front of him.

“I don’t remember telling you you could move.” She teased as she came back, and he lifted his head to look at her, wincing with the movement, but there was a slightly-bashful smile trying to tug at the corners of his lips.

“I need to be sitting up to drink though, don’t I?”

“...fair enough. But once you drink this, you should probably go to bed. The only thing that will ever truly get rid of a migraine is a good night’s sleep.”

“Do you get them?” He asked as he took a sip of his juice, taking another one as she arched an eyebrow at him.

“Fortunately not, but my mother’s had them for most of her life. She’s tried everything to get rid of them but nothing’s ever worked for good.”

“Is that where you learned that breathing technique then?”

She smiled. “Not quite, though it does help. It’s… Something of a breathing exercise we use in choir. Helps calm the body and focus the mind, plus it has the added benefit of lowering your blood pressure which in turn can help with some of the pain from a migraine. It’s not foolproof, but it’s one of many tricks in the arsenal.”

She paused then, tilting her head to the side slightly as she studied him. “...have you ever had one before?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve had headaches before sure, but nothing like this.”

She nodded. “Over the counter meds can help, though they take time to kick in. If you’re looking for something immediate to take the edge off, caffeine does wonders and you can also suck on a peppermint candy. My mom carries a bag with her wherever she goes.”

“I’ll have to look into getting some then.”

She smiled at him again before getting to her feet and holding her hands out to him. “Come on.” She wiggled her fingers. “Time for bed. I’ll help you up.”

“You don’t have to tuck me in.”

“I know. But I also have a feeling that if I don’t, you might try staying up and doing some work or do some reading before bed, and your eyes don’t need any more strain. You need cold and dark and _quiet_ Spencer Reid.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled, but took the wiggling fingers into his own and let her help him to his feet.

And she didn’t comment about how easy it was to help him with that.

The next morning, when his alarm went off, there was a note on the nightstand saying that she’d let herself out through his apartment window so the door would be locked behind her and Spencer made a mental note to start researching how to make lazji so he could cook her dinner as a thank you.

If anyone at the BAU noticed that he suddenly started carrying peppermint candies with him - or that the first couple he unwrapped with a smile - they didn’t comment on it.

_”In recounting our woes, we often soothe them.” -Pierre Corneille_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone who is a long-time sufferer of migraines, I can tell you that yes, peppermint does actually help take the edge off. That breathing exercise can help as well because it helps lower your heart rate and blood pressure. Cold and quiet and dark is still the best thing though, and I wouldn't wish that kind of pain on anyone but maybe my worst enemy.  
> But it's a convenient character trait for Spencer to canonically have, so I'm including it anyway :P
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr! I'm at blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com. Right now there's not much on there, but I'm probably going to start posting story snippets and what not over there for anyone interested :)


	6. Unconditional Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Spencer Reid has a new neighbor who likes distracting him when things at work get heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tickled pink that you all are enjoying this story so much, and I hope you continue to do so!
> 
> In celebration of making it through Florence without even a blip in power, I'm posting the next chapter a little ahead of schedule as well. I go back to my normal work schedule tomorrow, however, so my updates might start getting a little more sporadic from here.
> 
> At any rate - hope you enjoy!

_”But groundless hope, like unconditional love, is the only kind worth having.” -John Perry Barlow_

They figured out a few more things the next time they all spoke to Jeremiah Siler: one, he still responded better to JJ than he even did to Emily; two, he fell completely silent when either Morgan or Hotch were in the room and three, he was weirdly respectful of Rossi.

Kept calling him Father and Sir… Like Rossi reminded him of someone else from his past.

Like a priest.

“Siler was an alter boy as a kid. It’s probably where the subservient behavior was first drilled into him.”

“It’s likely there was a priest or a member of the church that Siler had a special relationship with. Someone that looked like you, sir, enough so that Siler feels connected to you.”

“More than that though…” Rossi agreed, flipping through the notes they’d all been taking during their various interviews with Siler. “...I think he might’ve been in love with this person, which is why he was so subservient then and why he’s acting that way now.”

“We thinking that’s also why he was so obedient to our unsub?” Morgan asked. “She was able to claim that loyalty for her own?”

“Quite possibly, though the question there is _how_?” Spencer countered, looking between JJ and Rossi for a moment as he went on. “Siler clearly showed preference to JJ which would imply that his Dom was likely of a similar appearance. JJ and Rossi look nothing alike and aren’t even of the same sex. If it was a physical thing, he should’ve reacted better to Emily.”

“Perhaps it’s something else then. Maybe our Dom has more of a mothering personality?” Emily asked, providing her own counterargument. “She swoops in and offers Siler unconditional love. Maybe it never had a sexual component.”

“That might explain why the first three victims weren’t sexually assaulted.” Hotch murmured, and all heads suddenly turned towards him.

“Wait. Are you saying Belinda Averies _was_?” Morgan got out first.

“It wasn’t obvious when the ME did his first check, but when we realized she was part of this case, I had him go back and do a closer look. The damage is subtle, but present.”

“How subtle?” JJ asked, though she looked like she really didn’t want to be asking anymore than she really wanted the answer.

“Subtle enough. He found traces of lubricant and minor bruising, but the bruises took extra time to present. The lack of tearing suggests the new team took their time, properly aroused their victim.”

Sometimes the body acted out of defense despite the mind’s desire to _not_ do so, and there was a collective shudder at the thought.

“So we’re thinking the new submissive is straight?” Emily asked.

“He’s still getting the unconditional love from our Dom as Siler did,” Spencer nodded. “but it’s likely that she has no interest in sleeping with him herself. Maybe something traumatic happened to her and she’s trying to make these other women hurt the way she did?”

“If that’s the case, they’re starting to escalate. The mutilation was bad enough, but adding rape into it…” Rossi winced. “...they’re definitely getting high off of the power.”

“Any word yet from local PD about further abductions?” JJ asked.

“None,” Hotch replied, pulling up his phone just to make sure he hadn’t missed a text or email from Garcia. “Though I had Garcia start looking in a hundred mile radius of DC. There’ve been a few possible abductions and missing persons, though none of them seem to fit the profile we have so far.”

“Which is?” JJ asked again, still looking a touch hesitant about the answer.

“Female and over the age of 18 with a name starting with either an A, B or U.”

It was starting to look like perhaps the unsub was following her original timeline after all.

~+~+~+~

_Why did our unsub choose the timeline that she did for these abductions?_ Spencer was wondering quietly to himself, looking over papers and pictures and maps and trying to see the larger image.

And failing.

_Why hold the victims for two weeks? Why wait three months between the first two victims and then only three **weeks** between the second and third?_

“Whatcha thinking about there, Spence?” JJ asked, setting down a cup of tea at his elbow, and Spencer was surprised to note the smell of peppermint.

“This timeline still doesn’t make sense to me.”

“The initial timeline?”

“Yeah. The old saying is that ‘everything happens in threes’, right?” JJ nodded and Spencer kept going.

“We have three victims. Second victim was abducted three months after the first, the third victim three weeks after that. But each victim was only held for _two_ weeks. What’s the significance of the change?”

JJ was frowning at all of the information now herself, and Spencer took that as a sign that he was allowed to continue rambling.

“If we continue with the theory that our Dom unsub is reliving some sort of trauma of her own, it stands to reason that she was probably captured and held for two weeks herself. That what’s being done to these victims was being done to her as well.”

“But that still doesn’t explain the three months, three weeks thing.”

“Exactly. Unless-”

“Unless what?”

Spencer sighed, biting down hard on his lower lip for a second before he turned sad eyes up to his friend.

“Unless it’s what she experienced as well?”

JJ paled at the thought. “You’re thinking maybe she was taken multiple times herself? Given the MO, it would suggest she was taken by the same person multiple times over the course of… Do you think that’s something Garcia could trace?”

“It’s certainly worth looking into.”

Something told him it wasn’t going to be that simple, however. Their unsub was careful; she didn’t seem like the type to just let herself be discovered that easily.

~+~+~+~

“I’m sorry, my loves, but nothing comes up when I run a search given the specified parameters.”

“Damn…” JJ swore, and Garcia was nodding in sympathy, though Spencer didn’t look as surprised as he could have.

“It’s possible that she never reported it.”

“But wouldn’t someone have _noticed_ if she was walking around looking like-”

“Not necessarily,” Spencer countered, though he sounded tired as he said it. “The number of assaults that go undocumented in this country is staggering, and it’s possible that she wasn’t abducted.”

“A family member?” JJ sounded just as tired as he did.

“Unfortunately. Perhaps someone she visited when she was younger? Would’ve been over a two-week period of time.”

“...should I expand the search parameters to include minors then?” Garcia asked, looking crestfallen at the prospect and Spencer idly wondered how she did this day in and day out without giving up who she was as a person.

“Please do. Let us know if that brings up any results.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

~+~+~+~

Even broadening her search nationally to include minors didn’t yield any immediate results, though Garcia told them she was going to let the system run overnight to see if anything would come up later.

She trusted her computers, and the team trusted her, so it was decided that they should all go home and get some sleep.

They were sort of stuck as it were with this case anyway, and it was unfortunately starting to look like they would be until another body turned up.

So, Spencer trudged home, standing and swaying with the other passengers on the metro before carefully pushing through the crowds at his stop, enjoying the crisp autumn air as he came out from the underground, and he thought about going for a walk in the park just to enjoy the sunshine for a bit.

“Spencer?”

He turned at the call, a sudden smile appearing as he took in Delilah and he offered a small wave of his hand before watching her cross the street towards him.

She was wearing flats, he noticed, simple brown ones that worked well with her burgundy skirt and mustard top, a jacket to match her skirt tucked into her bag.

Her hair was pulled back, though, and while he was a little sad about that - he liked the vivacity of her curls - he found he appreciated the graceful curve of her neck, too.

Had the weather suddenly turned warmer, or was it just him?

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She beamed up at him, and maybe Spencer wondered if she was being affected by the warmer weather, too.

“Just getting home?”

“Yeah. I was going to go out with some coworkers for drinks tonight to celebrate the end of midterms, but it’s a Friday night and I kinda just wanted to veg out, you know?”

He nodded as if he did, but Spencer couldn’t remember ever having just ‘veg out’ before, though he at least had heard of the concept.

“What about you?”

He was opening his mouth to answer when her phone suddenly range, and she excused herself with an embarrassed smile before answering it.

He tried not to listen in, really he did, but he could tell by the look on her face that it wasn’t exactly a pleasant phone call, made more evident by the fact that she lifted her hand to her head, pressing in a bit at her temple.

“Ma, you’re not- No it- _MA_. No, just liste-” Her New York accent was suddenly a lot stronger, too.

She pulled back her phone to stare at her screen in a mixed look of confusion, disgust and what Spencer predicted was probably anger, and his heart went out to her.

“Ma, listen to me. Nothing is going to happen to you. Call Tony if you need to, but take your meds and eat some dinner and call me later when you’re not talking crazy again, okay? Love you.”

She ended the call with a swipe of her finger, taking in a deep breath before she turned a tired smile back towards him.

“Sorry about that.” Her accent was closer to the softer one he’d come to know, and he shook his head as if to say ‘no apology needed’ but she continued anyway.

“My mom, she um… She’s older, and she gets confused sometimes. The doctors are telling us that there aren’t any definite signs yet, but that she might have the start of alzheimer’s or dementia. My brother helps out when he can, but he’s a cop.”

“You have a brother?” He’d assumed a sibling at one point but had never been completely sure.

“Yeah, an older brother. Anthony, but we all call him Tony. He’s kind of your stereotypical New York City cop, if we’re being honest. Married a good Italian girl. They’re expecting their first baby around Christmas.”

“That’s exciting!” Spencer commented, privately thinking that Delilah would make a great ~~mother~~ Aunt, but he kept that particular thought to himself.

“...listen, would you like to come up and veg out with me?” Delilah suddenly asked, and Spencer couldn’t help the surprised look that crossed his features at the question. “I was planning on ordering something, if you wanted to have that first chopsticks lesson?”

She looked hopeful, and Spencer just… Couldn’t deny her.

“Yeah. I’d like that. You can tell me a bit more about you.”

“Only if you promise to do the same.”

“Agreed.” He beamed at her, and while his blush certainly deepened, he wasn’t at all surprised when she looped her arm through his so they could walk the rest of the way towards their apartment building together.

_”Literature and butterflies are the two sweetest passions known to man.” -Vladimir Nabokov_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't lie to y'all: I love writing this story so, /so/ much and I'm glad that y'all are willing to come along for the ride with me. I've got big plans for this story and I've already written through chapter 13 with no sign of losing steam in sight.
> 
> Hope y'all are ready for what's to come. There's a /lot/ coming between here and there ;)


	7. Chopsticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, and apparently she's a pro at using chopsticks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies!  
> I am *exceedingly* sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, but it's been a crazy insane couple of weeks at work. I'm back for now with lots more planned going forward and hopefully I can get back on a weekly posting schedule!  
> I'm glad you all are enjoying this little story so far, and I hope you continue to do so. More plot in this chapter, and I think my tags are accurate, but if I need to update them, please don't hesitate to let me know!

_”The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.” -Mark Van Doren_

She was frowning at him, watching him carefully as he tried to pick up a bite of lo mein with his chopsticks, surprisingly not laughing at him when the noodles slipped off _again_.

“See? I told you I’m bad at this.”

“Hold that thought.” She replied, suddenly pushing herself to her feet, and Spencer could only watch as she made her way out of the room, an eyebrow shooting up in curiosity as he heard her digging around for something in what sounded like her desk in the other room.

He was still sporting that look when she returned a moment later with a pen and a notebook, both of which she put down beside him before reclaiming her seat.

“Write out a sentence for me.”

He blinked. “Did you have a specific sentence in mind?”

“Surprise me. I just want to watch you write.”

Spencer could feel his eyebrows draw together and a faint frown settle on his features, but he did as she asked, quickly writing out ‘The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog’ in his usual neat lettering, but it wasn’t hard to recognize that she didn’t really care about what he was writing.

Especially given that she was shifting her hand to mimic his, echoing the way he was holding the pencil with one of her chopsticks, and a moment later the second one joined it.

She fidgeted for a second with holding the chopsticks and the way she picked up the food, but it wasn’t long before she figured it out and nodded to herself before returning her attentions to him, reaching out to shape his hands the way hers had been and even moving his fingers until he had what she seemed to think was the proper hold on his own pair.

“The key is to make subtle movements, but also to try and pick up more food than you think. Try on a piece of chicken.”

She moved his hand and helped him move his fingers as he picked up the bite in question, helping him with his grip as he lifted it to his mouth.

And successfully bit down.

“Now, try it again. I’ll watch.”

He had an eidetic memory, so of course he remembered the amount of pressure to use, how far to move his fingers when he opened and closed the sticks, how to hold them still as he lifted the bite to his mouth.

Another successful bite.

“Now, the tricky part comes with noodles, but I always found it was easier to do more of a scooping motion.”

She demonstrated with her own food and Spencer nodded in understanding, but she still helped him with his first attempt.

It took him a couple more tries to get it right, but eventually he figured it out.

“And now you know how to use chopsticks.”

She was beaming proudly at him, and honestly Spencer didn’t even mind the blush that lit up his cheeks at her obvious pleasure at his work, nor did he mind the squeeze of her hand on his wrist that she gave before returning her attentions to her dinner again.

They’d been talking more or less nonstop since arriving back at her apartment - she insisted they eat there, and given that he had some case files spread out on his coffee table, he didn’t disagree with her - and he’d learned quite a bit about her and she about him.

Her father had been a New York City cop, but had been killed in the line of duty when she was six. Her older brother Tony - eight years her senior - had gotten into that line of work as something of an homage to their dad. Their mother - Eileen - had worked as a secretary at their local high school for years, but retired when Delilah graduated and went off to college.

She’d learned more about him in return, seeming to really understand his situation with his mother - made more understandable by her earlier admission of her own mother’s problems - but soon enough the conversation turned more towards their academic records.

Delilah certainly knew about _his_ multiple degrees, but he didn’t really know all that much about her educational background.

“So, what made you decide to become a music teacher?” He asked, the two of them now sitting on her couch, sipping at glasses of wine while something innocuous played on the tv in the background.

“I didn’t always want to be a teacher, actually.” She admitted, her free hand playing gently with a stray curl that had fallen out of her ponytail.

Spencer resisted the urge to reach out and feel for himself because one had come undone on the other side as well.

“I actually wanted to _compose_ music. But I um… I wasn’t very good at it, to be honest.”

Spencer blinked at that, frowning a touch again. “What makes you say that?”

“It wasn’t what _I_ said, necessarily. It was what my teachers said. They told me I was too whimsical. Too focused on the vocal.” She shrugged. “I wanted to be the next John Williams, but I guess it wasn’t really in the cards for me.” Another shrug. “But I can sorta sing, and I know how to blend voices together really well, so I turned to teaching. Directing voices is better than nothing, I suppose.”

“Sounds to me like you had some terrible teachers.”

“They weren’t terrible,” She murmured, looking down into her wine glass. “Just honest. I really wasn’t all that good, Spencer. Besides, what I do now is wonderful. I get to help others discover their love of music, and I don’t think I’d go back now to change my choice if I could. I’m _happy_ teaching.”

“I just think it’s unfortunate that none of them encouraged you to keep trying, to find _your_ voice among all the others. Good teachers are supposed to help us grow and change and learn from our mistakes. Not criticize us and tell us after one unsuccessful attempt to just… Give up.”

She was frowning slightly at him. “This sounds like something you’ve dealt with yourself.”

“Not exactly, but I’ve had my fair share of bad teachers over the years.”

He was interrupted from saying anything further by his phone ringing, and with a sigh he dug it out of his pocket, another sigh emerging when he saw it was Hotch calling him.

“I’m sorry, I’ve gotta take this.”

They had another case, as it turned out. Given that the Sign Language Killer - as they were quietly calling her without _actually_ calling her that - hadn’t struck again and likely wouldn’t for a while yet, they needed to continue to do their jobs and focus on other tasks.

The rest of his evening with Delilah therefore, needed to take a raincheck.

He was pretty certain he looked just as disappointed as she did when he told her the news.

~+~+~+~

Their next case turned out to be a fairly cut and dry one.

A young man, aged twenty three, had gone off the rails at his retail job when he started unboxing Christmas merchandise. Given that it was barely October and this particular individual had worked in retail for basically his entire working life, it wasn’t entirely a surprise that he had finally snapped under pressure.

Long hours, low pay, extended working-holidays with no time to spend with friends and family? Repeated for multiple years? Yeah, no real surprise there.

Honestly, it was more of a wonder that more retail employees didn’t snap.

But, it had still been a long couple of days given that the unsub had sort of gone on a minor killing spree that had resulted in most of his hometown ducking for cover, and Spencer was fairly tired by the time he got back home early that Tuesday morning.

The dark circles under his eyes were likely darker than usual, and he could feel the start of another migraine lurking behind his eyes.

But there was a little envelope taped to his door with his name written across the front in a delicate, feminine scrawl and he knew before he opened it up who it was from.

_Spencer,_

_Please accept this gift as a token of my pride at having been able to successfully teach you the ways of The Force._

_You’ve done well, my young Padiwan._

_Sincerely,  
Delilah_

Also inside the envelope was a long, thin something carefully wrapped in tissue paper, and Spencer couldn’t help the faint laugh of delight as he unwrapped it to find a pair of chopsticks etched and painted to look like blue lightsabers.

Sure, he might’ve been more of a Star Trek geek, but he could still appreciate the gift and made a note to do something special for her in return.

He’d figured out how to successfully make Lazji, after all. Perhaps it was time to invite her over for dinner.

But the pressure behind his eyes was building, and the dark of his bedroom was calling, so he let himself into his apartment and carefully put away his new chopsticks before making his way to bed and crawling between the cool sheets.

He could thank her later when his head wasn’t risking splitting itself in two.

~+~+~+~

Spencer couldn’t remember a single time in his life when he’d honestly spent an entire day in bed just sleeping. Even when he’d been exposed to Anthrax, or when he’d been shot, he’d been awake and alert relatively quickly even if he’d been confined to bed for a few days after.

So, it was with some surprise that he discovered it was _tomorrow_ when he came to, his phone buzzing away on his nightstand, and he blinked confusedly around the room for a moment before he sucked in a deep breath and reached over to pick up his phone.

“Sorry to wake you,” JJ murmured, and Spencer appreciated that she was using a softer voice given the hour. “But something’s come up in the Sign Language case.”

He made a mental note to start thinking about a better name for it, but told JJ that he would be there in a little while.

His head was still a little swimmy, but at least the pain seemed to be gone for the time being.

It was a little over an hour later before he made it to BAU headquarters, but he was dressed and his hair was brushed and he was drinking his second cup of coffee, but he was the last person to arrive and he murmured an apology as he took his seat.

“Jeremiah Siler was found dead in his cell just after one am this morning,” JJ was pulling up the pictures of the scene on the media board, and everyone in the room winced. “Investigators on scene are still trying to ascertain how he managed to get a knife into his cell without them knowing about it, but there’s no question as to what he did with it.”

“Why now?” Morgan asked, looking back over the papers and clearly wondering along with everyone else as to what they could’ve missed before.

“Did Siler receive any letters recently?” Spencer asked, frowning up at the board for a second before he reached to take a steadying sip of his coffee.

“What are you thinking, Reid?” Hotch asked, though there was something in his eyes that suggested that maybe he was thinking the same thing.

“I think our Dom reached out to him and told him to do it. Told him that she loved him, and she didn’t want to seem him in pain anymore.”

“But again, why now?” Morgan countered, steepling his fingers over the papers as he pressed down on their surface. “She’s had what, almost five years to tell him to do this? Why wait until now?”

“Because she doesn’t need him to carry the burden of guilt anymore,” Rossi answered. “She has a new submissive, someone else she can pour her love and affection into and who will do her bidding in return.”

“It’s also possible that she knew we talked to him,” Spencer added on. “Maybe she was worried that her promises of love would only be heard so much and that he might turn on her. It’s easier to take care of that issue now before it becomes a legitimate concern. This was his final act of devotion to her.”

“We’ll need to see any and all correspondence he received during his interment,” Hotch continued. “See if anything stands out that might point us in the direction of his Mistress or why she’s laying out her plans the way she is.”

They would have copies of those letters late that afternoon, and with one look, Spencer knew he was going to have his work cut out for him.

_”Blind faith in your leaders, or in anything, will get you killed.” -Bruce Springsteen_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr (http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to come say hi! I'm hoping to start posting little snippets of story progress there, along with inspirational pics and music and whatnot. I swear I'm a friendly little nerd!!


	8. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, who apparently is quite good at shutting him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Sorry again for the long delay between posts. Retail work this time of year is never exactly easy.

_”But for a few phrases from his letters and an odd line or two of his verse, the poet walks gagged through his own biography.” -John Updike_

If there had ever been a time in his life when Spencer Reid was thankful that he was capable of reading twenty thousand words per minute and that he had an eidetic memory, it was when he saw the boxes of letters that arrived after JJ worked her magic.

They were organized by date, thankfully, with each box representing a month that Jeremiah Siler had spent in prison, but even then, there were hundreds of letters in each box.

They’d even been provided with a picture of the last letter, but given the damage that had been caused to it from Siler’s blood, well, it was fairly understandable why it hadn’t been sent along with the others.

Starting from the beginning, Spencer read through them all one-by-one, coming up with a quick sorting system to make it easier for him to determine which of those letters were sent by Jeremiah himself - the prison kept copies on file just for such instances - which letters were written by fans of his “work”, and which ones were written by persons to whom Siler was responding.

It became obvious rather quickly that there was only one such person and that it was the Dom they were looking for, but rather _un_ fortunately, her letters were all typed. Spencer could study syntax and morphology all he wanted to, but he wasn’t going to get as much of a personal look into her life as he could’ve if the letters had been handwritten.

“Any luck, Reid?” Morgan asked, taking a seat next to him and assessing the neat little piles that Spencer was sifting through.

“Yes and no. I’ve determined which letters our unsub wrote to Siler and which ones he wrote back to her, but they’re fairly cut and dry still. Other than the use of the nicknames ‘baby boy’ and ‘madame’ there’s nothing at all to immediately suggest that these two had any sort of relationship, let alone a deeply devoted and loving one.”

“What do they talk about?”

“The weather. A lot. She likes to quote weather-themed songs in her letters, but I can’t determine any significance at this point.”

“It’ll happen.” Morgan gently clapped a hand to Spencer’s shoulder. “You always find the pattern.”

Spencer nodded, sucking his lower lip between his teeth and gently biting down.

It wasn’t that he _doubted_ himself, but he certainly had far more questions than answers at this point.

~+~+~+~

It was close to midnight by the time he came up for air with what felt like a permanent squint line between his eyebrows and he sighed as he leaned back in his chair and stretched out the kinks in his back from having been bent over paperwork for longer than was possibly healthy.

But he was thinking about meteorological patterns and something kept bugging him because while their Dom kept talking about the weather in her letters, they didn’t always match up with the weather patterns of Ohio at the date of the letter’s conception.

So, their Dom traveled. Frequently. For work? For pleasure? It still wasn’t entirely clear, but she spent a good amount of time in various parts of the country, though it didn’t seem as though she ever left the continental US.

Slowly but surely, a picture was starting to become clearer, but Reid didn’t have the right lenses yet to make out what his brain was trying to form.

~+~+~+~

There was a cup of coffee - his sixth? Seventh so far in a row? - at his elbow and the smell of chocolate tickling his nose, but he hadn’t entirely become aware yet of the scone that Emily had set down next to him anymore than he was aware of everyone watching him and looking at the board he’d constructed sometime while they’d all been at home sleeping.

“I want one of his battery packs. Just for a day. Just to try it.” Pretty sure that was Emily, but he was furiously scribbling something with one hand while the other was circling a passage in one of the later letters to Siler from his Dom so he wasn’t entirely certain.

“Reid, sweetie…” That was definitely Garcia. “...how long has it been since you slept?”

“I’m not tired.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Woke up when JJ called earlier.”

“That was at like three yesterday morning.” He heard JJ murmur, but he was on his feet and back at the board, ignoring them again.

“But you know what happens when you don’t get sleep.” Garcia again, and he knew more or less what she was about to say, which just made it worse because he knew she was right no matter how much he didn’t want to hear it.

“My brain can’t reset.”

“That’s right. And when your brain can’t reset, you’re more likely to not be able to piece together things you’ve previously consumed, correct.”

“...yes…”

“Which means…?”

“I think I’m onto something here though. This passage about thunderstorms, I-”

“Reid.” Hotch interjected. “Go home. Sleep for a few hours.”

He turned away from his work then to look at all of them. They looked concerned.

“...but I think our Dominate unsub works for the airlines.”

“Based upon…?” Rossi asked, ignoring the look Hotch shot him for catering to Spencer’s desire to stay and keep working.

“She talks about the weather a lot in her letters to Siler, but they’re weather patterns that happen all over the country. At first, she was staying within Ohio, but within the first year she started traveling to surrounding states. By the end of year two, she’s equally splitting her time between Ohio and parts all over the country, never staying in any one place besides Ohio for longer than a couple of weeks.”

“There was one instance-” He went on, rifling through a stack of papers until he found the letter he was looking for. “-where she mentions it snowing, but the next week, she’s talking about the warm breeze on her cheeks that played with her hair. She’s traveling all over and detailing those travels to him since he can’t be with her.”

“So, either she’s _extremely_ wealthy-” Emily started, having clearly picked up where Spencer had been going with his tangent.

“-or she can travel anywhere she wants for free.” Rossi finished, nodding in agreement.

“Garcia-” Hotch barked, looking over to the blonde in question as she pulled out her pen and notepad to take notes. “-look into domestic airline workers who lived in Ohio during the time of the first murders and cross-reference them with any that recently moved to the DC area.”

“Yessir,” She nodded, already making her way out of the room and towards her computer lab.

He shot a look to Reid. “Good work. Now go home and get some sleep.”

Spencer nodded, though he wasn’t sure how easily sleep was going to come.

~+~+~+~

JJ had handed him a bottle of water to drink for his trip home - something to help cut the caffeine, she had teased - and most of it was gone by the time he got off the elevator to his floor, though he was rather thankful that he didn’t have any in his mouth when he took in the sight before him as he stepped out into the hallway.

He’d never understood the appeal of yoga pants before, but then again, that was before he’d seen Delilah Jacobs in a pair and honestly…

Yeah. He got it now.

Quietly clearing his throat to announce his presence, he tried not to stare as she turned her head to look over at him with a smile, her cheeks a bit flushed still from whatever workout she must’ve just come from.

The voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Morgan was _pleased_.

“...are you just getting home?” She asked by way of greeting, her eyes taking in his slightly disheveled appearance for a quick second before returning to his face, her smile faltering slightly at the sight of the darker circles around his eyes.

“Yeah. Long night.”

“I can tell… Well, I um… I won’t keep you, Spencer.”

“No no, i-it’s okay.” He was quick to try and assure her, a hand reaching out towards her as though to keep her by his side, but it stopped just shy of actually touching her.

_I don’t have permission to touch her._ He thought. _She’s not **my** goddess to touch._

“You need sleep, Spencer, and I need a shower. I’m sure I don’t smell all that pleasant right now.”

He’d just been thinking that she smelled like something warm and rich, like coffee and vanilla and… He couldn’t place the other scent, but he liked it.

“You don’t smell bad to me.” It was out before he could stop himself and he immediately took a step back as his cheeks flooded with embarrassment even as he noticed that hers did the same.

“Get some sleep, Spencer. You need it.”

“Can I make you dinner? This evening?” It was out even faster than his previous comment, but this sounded more sure. Like it was something he’d been thinking about for a while.

Which he had. He couldn’t even try to deny it anymore.

She blinked up at him, starting to fiddle with her keys, but slowly she nodded her head in agreement and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“Sure. I’d like that.”

“Great. Does um… Does seven work for you? I can do earlier if you’d prefer. Or later, even! Whatever you want.”

“Sure, I-”

“I’d just really like to thank you for everything-”

“Spencer-”

“-that you’ve done for me lately-”

“Spencer!”

“-and you’re wonderful and caring and I appre-”

“S P E N C E R”

“-ciate you a lot, and I want to show you how much-”

He was stopped from saying anything further by her hand suddenly being over his mouth and she was standing so close that he could feel her body heat and smell her hair and her skin - oh, that third, wonderful smell was just _her_ \- and he’d never really been close enough to notice the flecks of gold in her brown eyes, but _mercy_ there they were and-

-oh. She was talking. Right.

“Seven sounds wonderful. I’m looking forward to it.” She was grinning up at him, seemingly not minding their closeness at all.

“Now go to bed, Doctor Reid.”

He swallowed hard, only nodding once she removed her hand from his mouth, but he didn’t dare open up his mouth to say anything else, absolutely terrified about what might come out.

She seemed to recognize as much, because she made her way into her apartment without another word, leaving him standing there in the hallway until long after she’d closed the door and locked it behind her.

Spencer Reid had a _date_.

_”Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back: a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.” -Anais Nin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, progress with Spencer and Delilah! The next chapter will be entirely devoted to their date. I have a couple of small things to tweak with that chapter but I'll likely be posting it on Sunday :)
> 
> Hope you're still enjoying this little work! Hit me up on [my tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com) and say hi! There isn't much to it at this point, but I'm trying to flex it up a bit~


	9. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, and apparently she likes Julie London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T H E D A T E H A S A R R I V E D. (even if it's accidentally a day later than I'd intended)  
> But seriously, y'all are awesome and I'm loving how much you all seem to be loving this story, too. I set out to write something that I would enjoy reading, but I'm glad you all are along for the journey as well!

_”Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.” -Harriet Van Horne_

Spencer usually had something of a routine when it came to preparing for bed, cultivated over the years by a need for efficiency and habit and he couldn’t think of a single time in his life when he’d been able to go to sleep - naps not included - without going through his routine first.

This particular morning, it would seem, was the exception. Possibly because he’d been awake for over 24 hours at that point, possibly because the caffeine was wearing off and he was crashing.

...Possibly because Delilah had _told_ him to go to bed…

But he didn’t ruminate on that much. He didn’t ruminate on much of anything, truth be told, and when he next came to it was mid-afternoon, the hints of light filtering in around the edges of the blackout curtains he’d purchased telling him it was probably about 2:30.

A quick glance at his clock confirmed as much and he briefly contemplated rolling over and going back to sleep for a bit - when did he _ever_ lay about in bed? - when he instead sat up as though he’d just remembered something.

Like that he was cooking Delilah dinner that night.

In just over four hours.

And he didn’t have a _thing_ in the house to prepare for it.

But he needed a shower first and foremost, and all of those things he should’ve done before he went to bed - brushing his teeth, and trimming his nails - he went about doing now, though he was moving a bit more hastily than usual.

Soon enough though, he was out the door and headed towards the market, hoping to find everything he was looking for relatively quickly so he could take his time with the meal prep and give the food the attention it deserved.

He might’ve also stopped and picked up a small bouquet of flowers along the way back, but he remembered reading somewhere that it was important to always make the table look presentable as well.

~+~+~+~

At 6:57, just as he’d finished getting the table set and the candles lit, there was a soft knock on the door, and Spencer straightened, calling out a quick ‘be right there!’ before taking a deep breath and crossing the room to open the door for his dinner companion.

_Dinner companions don’t dress like that Spencer. This is definitely a date._

“...H-Hi…” He finally managed to get out, giving her a grin even as he cleared his throat and swung the door open wider in invitation. “You look… Amazing.”

She blushed as she stepped inside, and Spencer _really_ tried not to look at the way her blue dress hugged her hips or kissed at the tops of her knees or the way her hair caught the light and just _shined_.

“You clean up nicely yourself,” Delilah replied with a warm murmur, and Spencer was fairly certain he wasn’t imaging the blush on her cheeks.

Huh. Tailored vests over a fitted button-up and slacks with _out_ the tie worked. Go figure.

He gave her a small smile of gratitude at the complement before offering her an arm to hold so he could lead her the short way towards the dining room, for once bare of anything except the placemats and accoutrements needed for dinner.

Even all of his case files and notes had been cleaned up and put away for the evening.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

He nodded and pulled out her chair for her, holding her hand as she took a seat - conveniently located so she could finish watching him prepare dinner - before making his way towards the kitchen and pouring her a glass of beer.

“I’ve been doing some reading-”

“Imagine that…” She teased.

He grinned but kept going. “-and apparently beer goes well with spicy food.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “So you’re making me something _spicy_ for dinner.”

“Yes,” He handed her the beer before returning to the kitchen to stir something on the stove. “And I’m hoping that you’ll like it.”

She took a sip of beer before setting it aside, licking her lips as she folded her arms on the table and watched him work.

“Where did you learn to cook?” She asked, and Spencer looked over to her for a second with raised eyebrows before grinning again and going back to what he was doing.

“College. I told you that one of my degrees was in chemistry-” She nodded, though they both knew he remembered telling her. “-and cooking essentially _is_ chemistry. It’s not hard once you figure out the science of it.”

“I was never any good at Chemistry,” She admitted. “Probably why I’m not the greatest at cooking. I can handle the basics but…” She shrugged. “Anything complicated? No way. I always manage to screw something up.”

“Well, I would offer to show you how it’s done, but…” He set the wooden spoon he’d been using aside to reach for a couple of plates and a pair of tongs. “...tonight’s dinner is done.”

Another moment and he was setting a plate before her, and he noticed the shocked but appreciative look in her eyes as she took the dish in.

“...you made me Lazji?”

He nodded. “Please try it. I hope it’s to your liking.”

Waiting until she’d carefully taken the first bite, Spencer felt his grin widen at the look of pleasure that crossed her features, though when her eyes reopened to meet his, he had to remind himself to be cool.

“What the hell, Spencer?”

Wait. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

“I-Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something’s wrong.” She tilted her head at him and suddenly looked like she was about to cry. “...why didn’t you tell me that you were so good at making this dish? I’m offended that you didn’t share.”

He let out a sigh of relief and a chuckle. “I um… I actually just learned how to make it.”

“You did?” She asked, taking another bite of food, and Spencer nodded, finishing his first bite and taking a small sip of beer before replying.

“I thought it would be a nice surprise for you.”

Suddenly, she looked a lot _softer_ and Spencer felt his heart literally skip a beat.

_Oh._

“You learned how to make this specifically for me?” He nodded and honestly, it wasn’t fair that a woman could look at him like _that_ and make him feel like _this_.

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Their conversation turned lighter then, easier, words slipping in and out with a soft sureness that Spencer had read about but had never actually experienced before that moment.

He liked it.

After dinner, though, once the table had been cleared and they’d both finished another glass of beer - which had thankfully turned down some of the spiciness for their palettes - Spencer made his way over to her and held a hand out to her in offering.

“Would you care to dance with me?”

“I’d love to,” She murmured, warm fingers sliding into his as he helped her to her feet.

Spencer knew how to create a great home date night experience - he’d read more books and articles on the subject than most others probably knew had even been written - so maybe it hadn’t come as a surprise that he’d had some music playing in the background for most of the evening.

Granted, Spencer had always been more of a fan of the complexities of classical music, but even he could admit that there was something purely _magical_ about the soft, sensual crooning of Julie London.

Delilah certainly didn’t seem to mind it either, though Spencer had done a bit of a profile on her and had already gathered as much.

They were a couple of songs in when ‘Cry Me a River’ started, and maybe they slowed their movements just a touch.

And maybe stepped just a hint closer.

And maybe his arm tightened around her waist a fraction and he might’ve been imagining it, but no, her eyelashes were a touch lower now.

So Spencer dipped his head slightly, and pressed his cheek against hers - thought it might’ve been more of his cheek against her temple - his eyes sliding closed and a moment later he felt her hand slide from his shoulder up to gently cup the back of his head and play with the curls she found there.

They stayed locked that way well into the next song - Somebody Loves Me - but once that ended, Delilah pulled back just a hint.

Just enough to brush the tip of her nose against his, and honestly she was close enough that he could feel her warm breath against his lips.

And Delilah _did_ close the distance between them then, her lips feather light against the skin just next to the corner of his lips, but the kiss lingered there for far, _far_ longer than necessary.

“I should go…” She whispered, words hardly more than a breath, but she was so close that Spencer could taste them.

“...please…” He countered, not even bothering to hide the faint plead in his voice.

“I don’t kiss on the first date, Spencer.” But she pressed another kiss to that same spot, and honestly that might’ve been even better.

But he nodded, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze again, his grip on her loosening a fraction because he didn’t want her to feel trapped or pressured and honestly she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

Suddenly she was blushing furiously and- Oh.

Had he said that last part out loud?

“Spencer, I-”

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” He breathed, not wanting to give her the wrong impression and his grip loosened on her further in case she wanted to step away from him. “I’m not saying it to pressure you or make you feel like you have to do something for me in return. I’m just saying it because it’s how I see you. And because you deserve to know.”

There were tears in her eyes, but a smile on her face, and she gave a nod before stepping close again to press one last lingering kiss to his cheek and then leave the circle of his arms, looking behind her with a look of pure affection before she slipped out the door.

And Spencer stood where she’d left him long after he’d heard the click of her apartment door closing and the sound of her locking it behind her.

Spencer Reid was in love.

_”If you kiss on the first date and it's not right, then there will be no second date. Sometimes it's better to hold out and not kiss for a long time. I am a strong believer in kissing being very intimate, and the minute you kiss, the floodgates open for everything else.” -Jennifer Lopez_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I have a couple of thoughts about this chapter, namely that not-quite-a-kiss and where it's going to lead, especially since I, you know, actually _do_ know where it's going to lead.  
>  Eventually.  
> I'm planning on posting some thoughts/headcanons about Spencer and Delilah on my [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) in the next day or so, so if you're interested, check it out. Say hi. I'll make pancakes.


	10. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, and apparently she likes getting to talk with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are just amazing. You know that? I've got over 1,000 hits now on this story, and I think that's just incredible. I'm tickled pink that you all are enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it, and I hope you continue to do so.

_”Living with fear stops us taking risks, and if you don't go out on the branch, you're never going to get the best fruit.” -Sarah Parish_

It’s been three months to the day since Belinda Averies was found dead.

“Alyssa Ferrigno, aged 18, taken from her home in Bethesda Maryland three days ago,” JJ started, clicking a button on her remote to pull up pictures of her.

_Taken from her home in the dead of night, no sign of forced entry or struggle. Her parents had gone out of town for a long weekend for their anniversary, came home to no sign of her. They’d talked to her Friday night once arriving at the lodge they were staying in, admitted to bad reception and that texts didn’t always go through, but they’d stayed at this place before and weren’t worried about her. The neighbors were supposed to have checked in on her, but just assumed when she didn’t answer the door that she was staying with friends instead._

The general profile fit, but they all knew it was too early to know for sure.

“Right now, we’re to treat this as a missing person’s case,” Hotch cut in once all of the details had been relayed to the team. “Reid, I want you, Morgan and Prentiss to go to the house, start working on victimology. JJ, you and Rossi with me to local PD. Make sure they know we might be looking at something more serious.”

The looks they all shared clearly stated that they really hoped they _weren’t_.

~+~+~+~

Bethesda was realistically close enough that they were all able to drive, Reid heading to the backseat without a fuss while Morgan drove and Emily rode shotgun.

He was sorting through paperwork in the back seat, looking for an immediate clue as to why Alyssa was taken - aside from the name, of course - but nothing was immediately standing out.

But there didn’t seem to be any questions now as to what sort of timeline their unsub was on.

“You’re awfully quiet back there, Reid.” Emily teased as she turned to look over her shoulder at him, and Spencer gave her a reassuring grin, though his eyes didn’t move from his papers for long.

“Just trying to establish a pattern.”

“You think there might be one?” Morgan asked.

“Hard to say for certain,” Reid replied, even as he made a mental note about Alyssa being in her school’s marching band. “I’ll know more once we check out the home.”

Alyssa, as it turned out, seemed to be a fairly typical eighteen year old with an interest in pretty people and fashion and music, the latter in particular.

“She was first chair clarinet in the concert band...” Reid murmured, seeing a picture of a concert where their victim was clearly deeply engrossed in her playing.

“It looked like she was already starting to apply to colleges, too,” Emily added. “Scored high on her SAT’s. She was applying for some music scholarships for Georgetown.”

_Turned eighteen three weeks ago. **Another three?** The arts in general seemed to be her life, but music in particular. No real interest in sports._

_Italian-American. Five foot eight inches, one hundred thirty seven pounds. Brown hair, curly, green eyes. Devout Catholic. No sign of drinking or drug use-_

“I found condoms,” Morgan supplied from the bathroom, the sudden burst of sound pulling Spencer from his thoughts as he turned to survey the box Morgan was holding up.

_Maybe not so devout after all._

“Didn’t Alyssa’s medical file state that she was taking birth control for Endometriosis?” Emily asked and Spencer nodded.

“Her parents knew she was on birth control, no need to hide that,” Emily continued. “Maybe the condoms were just an extra precaution?”

“Yeah, but what eighteen year old boy thinks or cares about those things?” Morgan countered again.

Reid kept quiet, because it was certainly something that _he’d_ thought about when he was eighteen, but he also knew he wasn’t exactly typical in that aspect.

“Maybe the boyfriend is a little older?” Emily reasoned. “We’re close enough to college campuses, and Alyssa’s a pretty girl.”

“I think we’ve got a few questions for Alyssa’s parents.” Morgan was agreeing again.

And then something clicked in Reid’s head.

“Guys, this may be completely coincidental-” that did _occasionally_ happen in their line of work. “-but Belinda Averies was also on birth control pills for complications related to Endometriosis.”

“Was there a specific brand?” Emily asked.

“It was never mentioned in her file, but her prescribing physician would be easy enough to track down.”

It wasn’t much, but it was a connection.

~+~+~+~

Morgan and Emily went to talk to the parents while Spencer put in a call to Garcia to try and track down both Belinda and Alyssa’s doctors, though that turned out to be something of a bust.

“Nope. Sorry. They went to different doctors, different medical facilities… Didn’t even go in the same towns. Immediate signs point to no connection.”

“Hmmm. Just an odd coincidence, then. Thanks Garcia.”

“Anytime, my nerd brother.”

He ended the call with a flick of his thumb, squinting up at the sky for a moment and noting that it looked like rain.

Probably would start later that evening, but it was good to be on the lookout for anyway.

And at least the cloud cover helped to keep things from being blindingly bright.

Emily and Morgan were still talking to Alyssa’s parents - nice couple, clearly loved their daughter and were worried about her. Their younger son, 15, was at football practice. Wanted to keep things normal for him for as long as possible - and Spencer didn’t want to interrupt their chat, so instead he checked in with Hotch to see if they had made any advancements on their front.

They hadn’t.

He’d just gotten off the phone with Hotch when Emily and Morgan came back outside to join him, though neither of them looked too thrilled about what they’d found.

“Alyssa’s parents say she didn’t _have_ a boyfriend,” Emily supplied. “Said the condoms were bought for some school project she’s been doing.”

“There weren’t any missing out of the box, either,” Morgan elaborated. “So it makes sense.”

“Hotch and Rossi aren’t having all that much luck either,” Spencer informed them. “And Garcia can’t find anything immediately connecting our victims concerning the Endometriosis.”

Emily and Morgan both made faces at that.

Reid knew he was missing something.

But _what?_

_If you knew that, you wouldn’t be missing it._

~+~+~+~

It was a little after nine that night when his phone quietly dinged, alerting him to an incoming text message, and he grabbed it without thinking. They were in the middle of a case, after all, and he’d ensconced himself in his hotel room for the evening so it was plausible that one of his teammates was reaching out to him.

_[txt] Are you home?_

It wasn’t one of his teammates.

**[txt] I’m in Bethesda, actually, working on a case. Is everything alright, Delilah?**

_[txt] Oh. Yes, everything’s fine. Just had a shitty day at work and could use someone to talk to._

**[txt] I’m not busy at the moment if you wanted to call?**

His phone was ringing a few seconds later, and he had to smile to himself before swiping to accept it.

“Hi.”

“...hi…” She murmured in reply, and he could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

“What happened?” He toed off his shoes and stashed them in the bottom of the armoire before moving to sit on the bed, leaning against the headboard as he crossed his legs at the ankles.

“Bratty kids and brattier parents and ‘why didn’t you give Susie that solo? She’s done it the last two years and this is her last chance to do it again before she graduates!’” Her voice was comically mocking on that last bit. “And just… Yeah.” A pause. “I could use a hug.”

He was fairly certain she’d be able to hear the smile in his voice when he responded. “I promise to give you one as soon as I get back.”

“I’m holding you to that.” She sounded serious, and he could hear her pressing buttons on her microwave in the background.

“Heating up dinner?”

“Oh, uh… No, actually. A hot water bottle.”

He frowned. “Did you hurt yourself?”

He heard a bashful sort of giggle come from her. “Oh, no no. No. Nothing like that. Just, you know… _female stuff_.”

“Oh.”

Another pause from her. “I’m sorry, it’s not a subject that most people find comfortable discussing.”

“No, no,” Now it was his turn to reassure her. “I just um… I’m not used to people being open with me about stuff like that. Most of the time the people around me just brush off their problems and tell me they’re fine even when we all know they aren’t.”

“I’d imagine in your line of work you sort of always have to put on a strong face, don’t you?”

“Delilah, there isn’t a strong bone in my body.”

“Well, _that’s_ bullshit.” She snorted, and he could hear what sounded like her sitting down and getting herself situated and comfortable for a while. “I know you didn’t forget the other night already.”

He blushed and to his surprise his voice was a touch lower than usual when he responded to her. “No, I definitely haven’t forgotten.”

“You hide yourself under baggier clothes most of the time, Spencer, but I could feel your arms when we danced.”

His blush deepened, but she kept going before he could get a word in, and… _Oh_

“I-I liked the way they felt around me…” She confessed, and Spencer was willing to bet money that she was probably blushing as hard as he was in that moment.

But he _definitely_ didn’t want her to stop.

“...there’s strength in you, and maybe it’s quieter, but it’s no-less present and it’s… It’s a beautiful thing.”

He felt her name leave his mouth like a whispered prayer, but still she kept going.

“I told you that I don’t kiss on the first date, Spencer, and I mean that. I never have. But I don’t think you know how close I came to breaking that rule the other night with you.”

He heard something in her voice that might’ve said it wasn’t the only rule she’d been about to break, and yeah, he’d felt it, too.

Still felt it, truth be told, and that spot just next to his lips tingled with the memory of where her skin had pressed so warmly against his, his fingers lifting up to gently cover the spot, though he couldn’t feel the tingle in the tips of those digits.

And maybe there was a tiny part of him that was wondering if he would tingle if she kissed him other places as well.

He swallowed hard at the thought.

“I just… I’ve been accused of being a tease before, Spencer,” Delilah continued, and he could hear a sadness in her voice that hadn’t been there previously. “But I want you to know that I’m not trying to tease you o-or string you along-”

“Delilah-”

“I genuinely care about you, Spencer, and I-”

“Delilah.”

“I want to explore this wi-”

“Delilah Jacobs, I am formally asking for permission to court you.” The words came out rushed, but he’d had to do something to stop her rambling - who knew she was almost as proficient at it as he was? - but there was a sudden quiet on the other end of the line, only the sound of her breathing coming through for a moment.

“...you want to court me?”

“There are three things at this moment that I am sure of Delilah: I like rules, I like structure and I like _you_. And, with your permission, I’d like the opportunity to properly win your affections.”

His voice was considerably softer as he went on. “...I don’t want to mess this up with you.”

He could hear the grin in her voice. “You have my permission.”

They talked for a few minutes longer, voices soft and maybe a little adoring, but he could hear the sleepiness start to creep into hers so he encouraged her to take her hot water bottle and go curl up in bed. That he’d talk to her later, he promised.

She acquiesced, and it wasn’t long after hanging up that Spencer turned in for the night himself, with thoughts of glancing kisses and warm fingers in his hair lulling him to sleep.

_”And most people have a woman in their heart, most men have a woman in their heart and most women have a man in their heart.” -Leonard Cohen_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter. This is a good chapter. Hope y'all liked it, too?


	11. Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, though apparently even she can't help this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. _Y'all._  
>  You all are amazing and I love all of you and the amazing feedback you've been giving to this story. It keeps me motivated, really.

_”There is no substitute for hard work. Never give up. Never stop believing. Never stop fighting.” -Hope Hicks_

The next morning started out just a touch too early for Spencer’s liking, and there was a pain behind his right eye that he wasn’t sure could be contributed to a fresh migraine or maybe something else, but at any rate, he needed coffee.

_Stat._

Thankfully, the coffee in the hotel lobby wasn’t terrible, and he was already on his second cup by the time the rest of the team joined him and they made their way to the precinct to hopefully get sleep-freshened eyes on their case.

And Spencer was a professional, so he could easily put away thoughts of the conversation he’d had with Delilah the previous evening, even if he wanted to pull up articles on modern courting rituals so he knew what he wanted to discuss with her when he got back to DC.

Because they were _absolutely_ going to talk about this and figure out what worked best for both of them.

But the case was more important. There was an eighteen-year-old girl missing who had possibly been abducted by a serial killer who simply wanted to mess with and taunt the BAU but who also knew how to make her victims suffer, and they only had ten days left to find her alive.

...well, _there_ was a thing.

“If Alyssa _is_ the latest victim of the Triple Ties Killer-”

“Triple Ties?” Morgan asked, obviously surprised since usually they weren’t the ones naming the serial killers.

“Faster to say than Sign Language killer and helps differentiate between another possible unsub,” Spencer clarified but quickly continued. “-but if she is, this would be the second time that she’s taken a victim of a specific age. Third that she’s taken someone under the age of thirty.”

“You think she has a thing against younger women?” Morgan asked again.

“Or at the very least, maybe that’s the age she was when her trauma happened to her.” Emily supplied. “Sees these young, happy women living their lives and it makes her jealous.”

“I think it might be more than that,” Spencer elaborated. “I think she might’ve experienced the trauma when she was much younger, and views it as the reason why she can’t enjoy her life now. I think she might be under forty, and she’s jealous that these girls got to have the life now that had been denied to her.”

“So, what about the other victims? Still thinking it was just because their names were convenient?” Morgan again.

“They were both mothers,” Emily shrugged and Spencer carefully nodded in agreement with her. “Maybe they shared something in common with our unsubs own mother that we just haven’t seen yet.”

“We need to look at them again,, see if there was anything we might’ve missed the first time.” Morgan agreed, though Spencer was silently worried that there wasn’t enough information available about those original murders to help them make a connection.

But ten days was a long time, and they’d done a lot more in a lot less.

~+~+~+~

It was nearing eight pm on day seven that found Reid in the conference room of the police precinct they’d taken over, maps strewn about and covering every available flat surface in the room - including several of the walls - and to outsiders, it probably looked like he might’ve gone mad.

He hadn’t. Not yet, but he was trying to narrow down a possible area where the unsub was working out of, but with only two victims in the DC area, there were too many potential homesites, making it virtually impossible to narrow down yet.

His phone buzzed, and he spared it a glance: Delilah.

_[txt] Take a deep breath._

They’d been texting back and forth off and on some when their time allowed for it, and while Spencer hadn’t told her the details of this case, she’d probably been able to read between the lines and figure out he was stressed.

Didn’t stop him from doing what she suggested though.

**[txt] Thank you. I needed that.**

_[txt] Anytime. Also, switch to decaf._

A small smile tugged at his lips and he shot her a ‘yes ma’am’ in response before setting his phone back aside and returning to his work.

“...what was that about?” JJ was standing in the doorway looking like the cat who’d caught the canary _and_ gotten the cream as a reward.

“What was what?” But he should’ve known better than trying to play dumb.

“Uh uh. You don’t grin at your phone like _that_ \- which you’ve been doing on and off for a couple of days now, Spence - and get to pretend it was nothing. Come on,” She made a ‘gimme gimme’ hand motion. “Spit it out.”

“Just a friend.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and it was pretty clear that she neither believed him nor was she going to drop the subject, but the rest of the team started to float in about that time, so she let it go for the time being.

The look she shot him very much said that their conversation wasn’t over, but at least she wasn’t dragging it out in front of everyone else. He wasn’t ready for all of that yet.

~+~+~+~

In fact, it wasn’t until they were headed back towards the hotel in the wee hours of the next morning, the two of them alone in the SUV JJ was driving, that she brought the subject up again, Spencer startling slightly as he’d been starting to nod off.

“So, this friend of yours…”

“Delilah.” His sleep-needing brain supplied.

“Delilah,” JJ repeated, testing the name out on her tongue. “She’s just a friend?”

He was quiet for a moment, thinking it over and he was thankful that JJ understood him enough - understood his need for privacy - to not push him too much.

“She’s my next door neighbor.”

“Wait… Is this Chinese food girl?”

He blushed but nodded. “We’re friends, but… I think we’re about to discuss becoming more. I asked her for her permission to start courting her the other night, and she said yes.”

JJ was grinning like a loon. “That’s absolutely precious, and completely perfect for you, Spence.”

They’d pulled into the hotel’s parking garage by that point and Spencer was fairly certain he looked like a tomato. “You think so? You don’t think it’s too old fashioned?”

“Breaking News, Spence, you _are_ old fashioned.”

He frowned as they climbed out of the car, but she was quietly elaborating before he got the chance to get offended.

“I get why courting appeals to you more than dating. It’s… Taking things slower, getting to know each other better without the pressures that society thinks it has to push on you. You’re a romantic, Spence, and courting… Well, it’s pretty damn romantic.”

He was still blushing, but he was nodding in agreement with her assessment. “...I like her a lot, JJ.”

“Yeah, I can tell. And if she’s agreed to you courting her, I’d say it’s a safe bet that she’s pretty into you, too.”

He thanked her again, but the conversation fizzled when the rest of the team pulled into the parking garage and JJ patted him on the arm before turning and walking away towards the elevators.

They needed their sleep, after all.

~+~+~+~

Day four: No new information.

~+~+~+~

Day five: No new information.

~+~+~+~

Day six: No new information.

~+~+~+~

Day seven: A phone call into the tip line turned out to be a bust, and things had gone from tense to stifling.

~+~+~+~

Day eight: Another phone call to the tip line resulted in a high-speed chase where the driver got away. Pulling the tags showed the car had been reported stolen two days previously.

~+~+~+~

Day nine: Stolen car found abandoned on the side of the road, seemingly because of a break down. Tire tracks found in the grass on the opposite side of the road suggest an ATV had gone through there recently and a search party was sent out just in case.

~+~+~+~

Day ten:

“God _DAMN IT_ ” Rossi yelled, voicing the opinion of everyone in the room.

Morgan looked like he wanted to hit something, Emily looked like she wanted to cry.

Spencer kinda just wanted to throw up.

Hotch and JJ had gone with the Sheriff to break the news to Alyssa’s parents.

But another body meant more to profile, more to learn. Another dumpsite meant another possible lead in figuring out the geographic profile.

But that wasn’t any sort of a comfort to any of them.

“Let’s pack it up…” Rossi finally murmured, voice still angry but at least he wasn’t shouting anymore. “...we go home, we get sleep, we attack this thing full-throttle tomorrow.”

They knew they only had three weeks until the next victim was chosen, after all.

_”It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah.” -Leonard Cohen_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real Delilah in this chapter, I know, but I promise I'll make up for it with the next chapter!


	12. Another Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor. Apparently she's good with the TLC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday my nerds!  
> Also, Happy Halloween for those that celebrate. As a special treat - and in celebration of Spencer's (and my!) favorite holiday - I got this chapter cleaned up so I could post it for you lovelies!

_”And if one is to express the great inevitable defeat that awaits us all, it must be done within the strict confines of dignity and beauty.” - Leonard Cohen_

It’s only seven miles from the heart of Bethesda to DC proper, a drive that usually takes around half an hour depending on traffic.

But that half an hour in traffic when he felt sick to his stomach, followed by the quick debrief in the office and unpacking his bag so he _could_ go home - he had no intention of taking any of the case files with him for once - and then the train ride to his apartment block, well…

...maintenance was lucky that he hadn’t vomited in the elevator.

As it stood though, he barely made it into the confines of his apartment before he was running for the kitchen sink - it was closer than the bathroom - when the contents of his stomach decided to pay him a visit.

This wasn’t like him, he knew that. He didn’t get rattled like this by cases - even Jack Vaughn killing Ryan Phillips in front of him hadn’t rattled him this much - but maybe it was the fact that they had so much time to try and still failed?

A fresh wave of bile came up and he coughed, feeling his abdominals burn with protest over the repeated heaving.

And he wasn’t sure how it had happened - maybe she’d heard him fumbling with his keys and then had heard him throwing up since he was pretty sure the door hadn’t closed behind him - but suddenly a familiar hand was pressed and gently rubbing against his back, encouraging him to get it out and even turning on the faucet to wash it down.

It took him another minute or so to finish, but no sooner had he sagged some against the counter than he suddenly found himself hoisted into impossibly strong arms and into the air while someone much larger than Delilah carried him to his bedroom.

_Huh?!_

“Easy, Spencer…” He heard Delilah soothe, felt her take a seat on the edge of the bed after he’d been placed into it.

His eyes opened to look confusedly around him, quickly alighting onto the gigantic man who clearly must’ve carried him.

“You’re huge.”

“No, I’m Tony.” The giant chuckled before turning to Delilah. “Need anything else, sis?”

She shook her head. “Nah, I’m good. Thank you, Tony.”

“Yeah, sure. Shout if you need me again. I’ll be on the other side of that wall.” He nodded pointedly at the wall behind Spencer’s bed, which Spencer knew backed up to her own bedroom since her apartment was the flip of his.

Delilah rolled her eyes before shooing him away, returning her attentions to Spencer a moment after she heard the front door close.

“So that’s Tony.”

“You might’ve mentioned your brother is Thor.”

“He’s a brunette and like maybe two inches taller than you.”

“He’s _huge_.”

“Oh, come on-”

“Delilah, your brother is like _six_ of me.” He chuckled, though the motion of lifting his head sent it spinning and he flopped back against his pillows with a groan.

“Alright, now, easy there Spencer…” She cooed, reaching out her hand again to brush a stray lock of hair off of his forehead, and he leaned into the blessedly cool touch as he pressed his lips together.

She let her touch linger until her fingers started to warm up, pulling away and telling him she’d be right back - _wait, where are you going?_ \- and he’d hear the sink in the bathroom running and what sounded like her rinsing something underneath of it.

His eyes had reopened and were watching her as she came back holding a washcloth, though they closed again in blessed relief when she pressed it against his forehead.

“...you okay?” She finally asked and he gave a faint nod before moving to take the cloth from his forehead and wipe his lips with it, sitting up a moment later to give her a small but thankful smile.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Bad day at the office.”

“I’d gathered as much.” She reached out to give his hand a squeeze, and Spencer glanced down to watch the way her fingers curled over his, turning his hand over so he could lightly tangle their fingers together.

“Listen, why don’t you go get cleaned up a bit, and I’ll order us a pizza or something? There’s a great place down the block that delivers. They could have it here in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah…” he nodded. “...I’d like that.”

“Then it’s settled.” She grinned. “Now, go get cleaned up, brush your teeth, and put on something comfy. We’re taking a mental health evening.”

“What about Tony?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “My brother is more than capable of fending for himself and is actually going out tonight with some of his cop buddies, and honestly, I’d rather not have him around while we talk about the terms of our courtship.”

_Oh._

He nodded, unable to form a verbal response, and immediately got up to head into the bathroom after grabbing something to change into from his dresser.

The shower he took was quick and efficient, and he brushed his teeth with the same practiced efficiency that he’d perfected in his youth, and he even took the time to run a comb through his hair before he finished drying off and pulled on clean clothes.

She’d said comfortable, but the only thing he had that constituted were his pajamas, so blue plaid flannel pajama bottoms, a grey t-shirt and two random socks out of the drawer would have to do.

She gave him a once-over as he came into the living room, nodding in apparent satisfaction before returning to dig through his fridge.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something you don’t have,” She replied as she pulled back. “I’m gonna run next door and grab a couple of things from my place. If the pizza comes before I get back, there’s money there on the table by the door.”

A couple of things, it turned out, were a few different varieties of sodas she’d nicked from her own fridge along with what looked like parmesan cheese and some pepperoncini peppers, still whole.

“You really love spicy food, don’t you?”

“It’s good for the metabolism,” She shrugged before turning to him with a wink. “And a girl’s gotta watch her figure.”

He blushed at that and he just knew that Delilah would _know_ that her figure was something he’d been appreciating.

The moment was sort of ruined however by a loud knock on Spencer’s door, and Delilah went to answer - he was pleased to note she checked through the peephole to see who it was first - and a moment later she was carrying a pizza into his apartment.

And heading straight for the couch.

“Can you grab the stuff I left on the table in there for me, please?”

He looked around him, noting the napkins she’d set out along with everything she’d brought from her apartment, and it might’ve been a little awkward, but he managed to get it to her without dropping anything.

She helped him unload his arms and arrange everything around the now-open pizza box - classic pepperoni, always a hit - though he was a little surprised when she stopped him from going anywhere by grabbing his wrist and tugging him down beside her on the couch.

“What about plates?”

“That’s what the napkins are for.”

“...but what if the grease bleeds through the napkins?”

“That’s what your tongue is for.”

He blinked at her.

She suddenly snorted at the look on his face. “There’s plenty of napkins here for both, Spencer, don’t worry.”

Oh. She hadn’t realized that maybe he’d been thinking what it would be like to lick pizza grease off of her fingers.

Or to lick something _else_ off of his own.

“Right, yeah. Sorry. Of course,” He cleared his throat. “Though you know I have paper plates in the cabinet right?”

But she was too busy taking her first bite of pizza to answer - she had the perfect fold in her slice - so he let it go and reached for a slice of his own.

The conversation was light as they ate, and Delilah giggled a few times when pizza grease suddenly tried running down his arm, and by the end of his third slice Spencer was already feeling decidedly more at ease.

And Delilah, bless her, didn’t try to bring up why he’d gotten sick earlier. Didn’t ask questions or press or get upset when he clearly wasn’t going to offer up any information on his own.

He’d told her earlier he’d had a bad day, and for her, that was enough.

It was his turn to laugh at her though as she bit into a pepperoncini and immediately made a face that screamed ‘WAY TOO HOT’, reaching to grab her drink for her as tears started to pour down her face.

He stayed close though as she drank, and he wasn’t really sure what he was doing, but as she lowered the drink from her lips, he lifted a hand to brush away the tears from her eyes and then tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

She swallowed hard, and suddenly the mood in the room shifted again and Spencer was reminded of that moment a couple of weeks previously when they’d finished dancing.

She didn’t stop him, but she didn’t lean towards him anymore than he moved to further close the distance between them.

“I-I thought it might be best to avoid rubbing your eyes.” He murmured. “You don’t want to get pepper juice in them.”

“Right…” She breathed and a moment later his hand fell away from where it was tracing along the whorl of her ear to fist with the other in his lap and he looked away from her.

“I’m sorry-”

“Spencer, don’t-” She interrupted, her hand suddenly gripping his upper arm. “-I’m not upset.”

He turned his eyes back towards her, a note of uncertainty in them.

Her smile was soft and he didn’t find anything that would make him cringe swimming in those big brown eyes of hers.

“Maybe now’s a good time to talk about this courtship?” She suggested, and he nodded again, but now that the situation was actually here, he’d found that the words he’d decided on using were stuck in the back of his throat.

“You okay?”

He nodded, clearing his throat and reaching for his drink, licking his lips after and nodding again before finally replying.

“I wanted to start by telling you that I am, without a doubt, crazy about you.”

_God_ but he liked the way her face lit up at that.

“And I have a lot of respect for you, Delilah. But I want to know more. I want to know everything.” They were holding hands again. “I want to know what your favorite movie is and why you think Phantom is a better musical than Les Mis.”

She giggled, but he kept going.

“I want to be absolutely, completely in love with your mind before you give me the honor of falling in love with your body.”

Her pupils dilated at that, and she sucked in a little steadying breath.

“I want us to be intimate, Delilah.” His eyes were searching her’s for something, for understanding maybe, and he found it almost immediately, taking it as a sign to keep going still.

“I think that intimacy, true intimacy-” he explained “- is separate from sex. It’s… Allowing ourselves to be vulnerable, and honest but also to learn how to listen to one another and just know what the other needs without asking.”

They both knew what he was really asking her, what she was agreeing to if she said yes.

“But this isn’t just about what I want,” He whispered, silently hoping that he hadn’t freaked her out with his forwardness.

“...I like what you said though,” She murmured, and maybe they were leaning a little closer together again. “Most guys don’t say those sorts of things.”

“I don’t want to be most guys. I want to be Spencer Reid.” A breath. “I want to be _your_ Spencer Reid.”

“And I want to be your Delilah.” She answered to the question he hadn’t outright asked. “I-I want the conversations and dinners and little inside jokes.” She squeezed his hands. “And I want to be vulnerable with you. Intimate.”

By the way she purred that last word though, Spencer knew she wasn’t just talking about the kind of intimacy he’d previously been elaborating on.

He breathed her name again, and they were close enough suddenly that Delilah was able to press her forehead against his, one of her hands untangling from his to come up and rest at the spot where his neck _just_ turned into his jaw, fingers teasing at the hair beneath them as she ever-so-lightly trailed her nails across his skin.

He shuddered, but didn’t move. Didn’t dare.

“I want dancing at three in the morning in our socks in the kitchen,” She started outlining, slowly painting the picture for Spencer in a way he never would’ve dreamed possible. “I want stolen kisses while we’re getting ready in the morning and fighting over who gets the mirror next.”

He smiled at the image, already knowing he’d let her win just so he could admire her while she fixed her hair.

She kept going. “I want the embraces that go on for twenty minutes because one or both of us just needs to silently be held for a little while.” Her nose brushed against his, and if this wasn’t the most erotic thing that Spencer had ever experienced…

“I want to memorize every scar on your body with my fingertips and then do it again with my lips.” Her breath was warm against his skin, her lips so tantalizingly close that he could almost feel them against his. “I want sleepy, morning sex and pancakes and making love after getting caught in a rainstorm.”

“I want to know the weight of you in the quiet moments after,” Her lips were almost brushing along his jawline now, and his hands were tensing where they now rested at her waist and it would be so easy to just pull her into his lap and _never let her go._

“...and I don’t want you to _ever_ think that you’re less than beautiful, Spencer Reid.”

And there it was, the warm, tingling feeling of her lips pressing to that same spot again just next to the corner of his mouth, his own lips parting slightly with the feel of it.

He could’ve turned his head _just so_ in that moment and claimed her lips. He wasn’t holding back, but he wasn’t giving in either. He was still leaving this entirely up to her.

Her fingers slid back fully into his hair, cupping the back of his head as she pulled back to peer down at him - when the hell had she ended up in his lap? Had he done that? Had she? - and Spencer noted that her pupils were dilated, her skin was flushed, her breathing labored…

He’d already known that he was aroused, but- “Delilah…” And what was his voice doing? When had he turned into Morgan Freeman?! “...I think I should send you home now, before we do something that throws this evening’s conversation into the trash.”

She nodded, but didn’t immediately move way, her fingers still in his hair and eyes still locked tight with his.

“Delilah…”

“Promise me you’ll always say my name like that.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded, said her name again and watched her eyes flutter closed for a second before she somehow found the willpower to climb out of his lap and rise on shaky legs to stand in front of him.

He wanted to stand up, walk her to the door and maybe let himself kiss her cheek in return, but he knew if he stood up she wasn’t going to be leaving his apartment that night.

“Goodnight Spencer.”

“Goodnight… Delilah.”

_“There's nothing more intimate in life than simply being understood. And understanding someone else.” - Brian Metzler_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should mention that Spencer's characterization in this chapter is more how I headcanon him versus how the show _typically_ portrays him. I could go into details, or you can check out my [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) where I wrote up a meta on this very subject a couple of weeks ago. Essentially, I explain my thoughts and explain why I think there's a lot more to Spencer than what we've been shown so far canonically.  
>  Also, you should totally check my tumblr out if you want to see my Halloween costume this year. I'm pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself :)


	13. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, who apparently is quite adept at making pancakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ACK!!!  
> I am _so_ incredibly sorry for the delay in posting this chapter y'all. For those of you who don't know - which is likely the vast majority of you - I'm the operations manager at a department store. Black Friday is next week. Been a little busy with that, if you can imagine.  
>  The chapter is here though! Hopefully it won't be as much of a delay between this one and the next one~

_“What nicer thing can you do for somebody than make them breakfast?” - Anthony Bourdain_

It was actually somewhat _indecent_ how well Spencer slept that night, especially given the dreams of fingers tangled in wild curls and almost-kisses and breathily-whispered names, and he had to take another shower that morning upon waking to clean up again.

But he had a case to focus on, and he needed to compartmentalize, so thoughts of Delilah and pizza and intimacy were carefully being stored away until he had more time to analyze them.

The compartmentalization, however, was somewhat derailed when, as he was leaving to head towards the metro station, the door next door opened and Delilah stuck her head out at him.

“Are you leaving?” She asked, looking a touch crestfallen.

“I wanted to get an early start this morning.” He confirmed.

“Damn. I um… I was making pancakes for Tony. Was about to text you and see if you wanted to have breakfast with us so you could meet him properly.”

Damn, indeed.

He shook his head, taking a couple of steps closer to her so they didn’t have to talk so loudly. “I’m really sorry, but I’ll have to take a raincheck. Is he going to be in town much longer?”

“He’s leaving this afternoon,” She replied with a shake of her own head. “He was only in town for that conference last night.”

He sighed, watching as she slipped out and padded over to him and he tried to ignore the messy tousle of her curls or the fact that she was wearing shorts and her legs were on display.

She already knew he appreciated the way she looked, but that didn’t mean he needed to ogle her.

“Can I at least make you up a plate to go? It’ll only take a few minutes,” She grinned up at him, and really that wasn’t even fair. “They don’t take long to make, after all.”

He spared a glance at his watch, but he was already agreeing and why was she grabbing his- _Oh, we’re moving into her apartment now._

He was standing somewhat awkwardly just inside of the doorway as she headed towards the kitchen, but then Tony came lumbering out from the bedroom with a towel in hand that he was using to dry off his hair.

“Hey Spencer. How’s it hanging, man?”

Spencer offered him a little bit of an awkward grin. “It’s… hanging. Yourself?”

Tony laughed, the sort of deep belly laugh that came from an awkwardly friendly place, and it made Spencer smile a little bit wider.

“You staying for breakfast?”

“No, unfortunately,” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. “Your sister is just making me up a plate to take in with me to work.”

“Yeah, she said you worked for the FBI?” Tony was looking him over, and Spencer knew he didn’t exactly fit the profile for the standard FBI agent. “Something about analysis?”

“Behavioural Analysis, yes.”

“Oh. I was thinking something computer related.” He paused. “Sorry.”

“No apologies necessary. I _am_ a nerd.”

“A brilliant one.” They heard chimed in as an addition from the kitchen, and Spencer’s smile turned a little more bashful.

“Come on,” Tony gently clapped him on the shoulder. “At least come sit down with me for a few minutes while she’s cooking up those pancakes.”

And Spencer couldn’t really find it in himself to refuse.

~+~+~+`

While he didn’t stay to eat, he did end up having part of a cup of coffee with Tony and Delilah, so by the time he’d caught the train and made it to work, he was coming into the office about the same time as the rest of them.

And they wanted to know why he hadn’t brought enough pancakes to share.

JJ in particular was ribbing him, and maybe she had a look in her eyes that said she knew exactly why, but again she kept mum on what she knew.

But there was work to be done, and Garcia had baked muffins, so they each settled into their chairs with their respective breakfasts and picked a file and startling analyzing.

Spencer wasn’t able to finish his pancakes.

“...the ME found a high concentration of Diluadid in her system…” He half-muttered to the room, ignoring the suddenly sympathetic looks everyone was shooting at him.

_She wouldn’t have had a clue what was happening to her. Maybe there’s a blessing in that…_

“Was that ever found in any of our other victims?” Hotch asked, though it was more rhetorical. A detail like that they would’ve been more likely to remember. It would’ve stood out.

“Do we think our unsubs are making this more personal?” Emily suddenly asked. “First they target the BAU in general, but now they’re starting to make mention of us in other parts of their assaults?”

“Too little information to know for sure.” Spencer sighed, but yeah, he was feeling this one. Maybe a little too personally.

“You alright, kid?” Morgan asked.

“Should I be?”

No one really seemed to have an answer to that.

~+~+~+~

They scoured back over the rest of the cases, but so far there wasn’t anything they could gather from any of the other victims to suggest another specific member of the team was being called out.

Perhaps this time was just another odd coincidence, but it somehow didn’t feel like it.

But still they scoured and compared and contrasted and did everything they could to keep working the profile.

They had ideas, sure and maybe something of a start of a geographic profile, but they didn’t have enough yet to go from something general to something more specific.

Dinner had arrived - Spencer had bought everyone burgers from one of their favorite places down the street to make up for the pancake incident that morning - and they were taking a much-needed break to discuss something trivial for once when Morgan suddenly looked at Spencer and winked.

Spencer frowned and Morgan’s face lit up with his grin.

“Spencer, you’re surrounded by a bunch of profilers-” Oh no. “-did you _really_ think you were going to be able to keep it a secret from us?”

He shot a look at JJ who just shrugged and gave him an apologetic smile. “It wasn’t me, Spence.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Surprisingly, that almost came out almost-convincingly.

“Spencer, come on…” Emily teasingly needled. “...we just want to make sure you’re happy.”

“We also want to know her name so we can run background checks and make sure she isn’t a serial killer.” Garcia chimed in and even Reid had to laugh at that one.

“Her name’s Delilah Jacobs. She’s a music teacher at Woodrow Wilson.”

“A music teacher?” Rossi asked, eyebrows arching as he leaned back in his chair and nodded. “So she’s got a good education then. Not surprising.”

“She’s the choir director-”

“And she’s _beautiful_!” Garcia suddenly chimed in, and Spencer groaned when he realized she’d pulled up her computer and had likely found the news article about Delilah from the Post a few weeks previously talking about the ‘Choir Director Making Big and Exciting Changes’ to the music program at Woodrow Wilson.

“Yeah she is,” Emily agreed.

“Go ahead, pretty boy!” Morgan grinned over at him again, but it was JJ’s following comment that really made Spencer blush.

“You’d make pretty babies together.”

“Can we get back to work now?” He was a tomato now, he was sure of it. “Please?”

~+~+~+~

All teasing aside, their team was one that had always worked well together. They understood one another and they could bounce from one thought to another almost seamlessly.

But it was like this unsub knew that. That she was intimately aware of how they worked and was doing everything in her power to throw them off and shake the very foundations of what they’d spent years building together.

Time was of the essence. They had 20 days now before the next victim would be abducted and Spencer wasn’t the only one feeling like he was at his wit’s end.

But then they caught a small break.

Rossi had asked Garcia to scour the hard drives of both Belinda and Alyssa’s computer, see if there was anything stored on there that might link the two young women together.

“They were both part of the same Endo Speaks support group.”

“Wait,” Emily jumped in. “So the Endometriosis _is_ relevant?”

“Looks that way.” Garcia confirmed, hooking her laptop up to the overhead projector system so she could show them what she’d found.

“There are literally _hundreds_ of these sites on the Internet, but this one seems to cater more to women in the DC metropolitan area. They’ve got a few doctors and nurses on here who answer questions, but mostly these women just share tips to help with pain management and whatnot.”

“Considering that nearly one out of every three women on the _planet_ suffers from endometriosis,” Spencer added “it wouldn’t be hard to target a support group like this.”

“Our unsub probably suffers herself.” Rossi nodded. “Added to the pain of the rest of her trauma, she sees these other women who are successfully living with it and coping and sees yet another just reason to make them share in her misery. ‘My life sucks so yours should, too.’”

“Garcia,” Hotch cut in, “I want you to see if you can get in and pull all of the contact information for registered users on this site. See how many of them talked to our victims and-”

“-and compare them to my other lists? Already on it.”

This was the break they desperately needed.

~+~+~+~

Compiling lists took time, so the team broke again for the night to go home and sleep in their own beds, and maybe Spencer was a little confused when Morgan offered to drive him, but he nodded and accepted the offer all the same.

“So, why didn’t you tell us about Delilah, kid?”

Ah. Private interrogations. Fun.

“Because it’s still new,” He gave a small shrug. “And it’s not even a-a _thing_ yet.”

“Have you kissed her yet?”

“No.”

Morgan seemed surprised by the answer, so Spencer elaborated: “We’ve only just started talking about being more than friends. We want to take things slow, get to know each other…”

That spot by his lips tingled again and he unconsciously licked his lips in response.

“But you like her?”

“Tremendously.”

“And you _want_ to kiss her?”

“...yes, Morgan.”

“And she wants to kiss you?”

The tingling got a little hotter. “Yeah.”

Morgan frowned. “I don’t get it. If you want both to kiss, just kiss.”

“It’s not about sex though, Morgan.” Spencer responded, and once again Morgan looked surprised, but it was probably more because Spencer was talking about this particular subject than anything else.

“I want to fall in love with _her_. Sex _should_ be the last thing from my mind right now. There are so many ways to be intimate with someone that don’t include physical needs and I want to explore those with her.”

Morgan nodded, but there was a question in his eyes, and Spencer was a little surprised when it was asked.

“You don’t have to answer if you aren’t comfortable with it, kid, but… Have you ever made love to a woman before?”

“I lost my virginity with I was sixteen-”

“Sex and making love are two _very_ different things, Reid.” They’d pulled up in front of his apartment complex, but Spencer wasn’t quite ready to get out of the car yet. “Sex is about the finish. Making love is about the journey.”

Spencer frowned at that, understanding the concept but yeah, he could admit this wasn’t something he had a _ton_ of experience in.

“I’m not going to give you the sex talk-”

“Thank you. I gave that to myself when I was seven.”

“...seven?” Morgan chuckled incredulously. “Anyway. You’re a grown man with good instincts and a good head on your shoulders. But I’ll tell you this, when the time comes and you’re both ready for it, listen to your instincts. Your heart. It’ll make the journey a helluva lot better.”

Spencer nodded again, thanked Morgan for the ride and the advice and then slipped out of the car and inside the building.

He had more to think about, and sleep didn’t come quite as easily that night.

_”Science may never come up with a better office communication system than the coffee break.” - Earl Wilson_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.  
> I'm feeling pretty confident that Spencer's conversation with Morgan is gonna be held under a fair amount of scrutiny, but I stand by what I've said previously and by what I've elaborated on over on my [budding fandom tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/). Everyone headcanons characters differently and I touched on my headcanons a bit with that conversation.  
> That being said, Spencer is still an awkward bean, and that'll be explored quite a bit the further along we progress with his and Delilah's relationship. I'm going to try my best to keep him in character, but let's just say that Boy Wonder has done _plenty of reading_ on this subject as well ;)


	14. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, and apparently she likes doing research, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving lovelies! I know some of my readers aren't American, but the sentiment still stands. I'm super thankful for all of my readers and commenters and Kudos givers (I can't believe there are 100 of those!!!!!) and I'm appreciative of your continued support for my little story.

_”What goes best with a cup of coffee? Another cup.” - Henry Rollins_

The next morning was another early one for Spencer, and he was already on his third cup of coffee by the time the rest of the team joined him at the office.

It felt like someone was slowly shoving an ice pick into the space just below his right eyebrow, right at the tender spot where the space softened because of the hollow of his eye socket and it was slowly spreading.

It wasn’t _pain_ yet, necessarily, but certainly pressure. Pain would certainly be coming later though.

Maybe he should do some research on alternative methods of pain relief. Certainly couldn’t hurt, at least.

He _hated_ taking any sort of pain medication, after all.

As it was, he dug around in his bag for a peppermint and popped it into his mouth, hoping it would at least help take some of the edge off, though he made a note that he was getting low and would need to buy some more soon.

Emily had been the first to join him that morning, and as such had been the first to potentially notice that he wasn’t all there, a note of concern making her eyebrows draw together a touch as she watched him dispense of the candy wrapper.

“Another headache?”

He nodded in answer, knowing that she’d understand him not wanting to necessarily speak on the subject, especially considering he didn’t really know what was causing them.

“Listen, I know this guy-”

She was interrupted by Hotch telling them all to head to the conference room, but Emily knew Spencer wasn’t going to forget she’d been in the middle of saying something and would likely bring it up again later.

“Garcia? What do you have for us?” Rossi asked once they were all seated and the door was closed again, all eyes turning towards the bespeckled blonde as she pulled up her findings on their projection board.

“So, this website that our victims were using? It’s huge. Like, without question the biggest online support group for the DC area, but it also has sister sites in several other major cities: New York, Atlanta, LA, Columbus… It’s basically national.”

“Are there any further connections between any of our other victims with this one?” Rossi asked again.

“Possibly.” Garcia nodded. “Our second victim, Amali Grissom, had recently been spending some more time with her lady doctor than usual. She wasn’t a confirmed case yet, but it’s quite possible that the diagnosis was in her future.”

“So,” Morgan jumped in, leaning back in his chair as he sipped at his coffee. “We have an unsub who has targeted at least three women with the same medical issue. She travels all over the country for either work or business, and there’s a national support group that at least two of our victims were active participants in. What are the chances that our unsub works for this support group?”

“Like in a PR role?” JJ added.

“Doctors and nurses don’t necessarily travel all that much given their work schedules.” Spencer added on. “Some of them might attend annual medical conferences, but it’s not like they’d be going to those a couple of times a month.”

“I’ll look into this support group,” Garcia provided before she could be asked. “See if they have any sort of headquarters listed in Ohio and who works there.”

Progress. Slowly but surely.

Nineteen days.

~+~+~+~

Too many names. Too many possibilities. Even with Garcia’s talents, they couldn’t narrow the list down to less than two _hundred_ possible names, and the time it would take to reach out to and contact every one of those women, well…

Time would be up.

The entire team was getting frustrated, and it was starting to show. Even taking smaller cases did little to help them compartmentalize, and Reid wasn’t the only one starting to frequently show signs of stress-induced migraines.

Seven days.

~+~+~+~

Four days, two extra cases on top of the Triple Ties case, and Hotch was telling them to all go home and get some sleep. Even if just for a few hours.

His head was pounding, his eyes burning and while he recognized that he likely looked like a complete idiot wearing sunglasses indoors at almost ten o’clock at night, it was either that or throw up all over the metro station from the light-induced pain and nausea.

He’d been texting Delilah off-and-on all night - now that the team knew about her it was easier to sneak a quick message to her occasionally - so he wasn’t entirely surprised to see her standing outside his door waiting for him when he got home.

Taking his keys from him, she unlocked the door and led him inside, helping him take his bag off of his shoulder before asking him to stay still for a moment while she took care of something. When she returned, it was to gently take his hands in hers as she pulled him down the tiny hallway to his bedroom where he was pleased to note she’d thrown a towel over the lamp to help dim the brightness a bit.

“Do you trust me?” She asked, voice hardly more than a breath.

He nodded.

“Close your eyes. Try to relax.”

He did as she told him, eyes squeezing shut a bit harder as he felt her take the sunglasses off his face, shoulders tensing slightly as he felt her start to strip off his jacket and vest and tie, swallowed hard when he realized she’d bent down to unlace his shoes though his hands went out to his sides as she lifted each foot to peel those shoes off his feet.

Another moment and she was helping him take a seat on the bed, though she quietly asked him not to lie down yet, and he nodded at that even if his brow drew together some in confusion.

He heard the click of his lamp shutting off, another quiet moment passing before he heard her start to move again - she must’ve been letting her eyes adjust to the darkness - and then she was…

...climbing onto the bed with him. Behind him.

“Relax, Spencer. I’m here to help.”

He could tell by the way her weight was distributed that she was kneeling behind him, but he was distracted by the warmth of her closeness, by the feel of her hands suddenly sliding onto his shoulders, lingering there for a long moment before they dipped around to start undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“...Delilah…”

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

“...I just want to know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve been reading up on migraines.” Why did her voice suddenly sound a touch husky? “About some um… Some alternative pain relief methods. Massage is one of them.”

He still didn’t understand why her voice was suddenly deeper, but he helped her get him out of his shirt all the same, shuddering slightly at the feel of the cooler air that brushed over his skin before her hands suddenly found purchase on his shoulders.

Delilah’s hands weren’t overly strong, but they were warm and they were firm and she had the advantage of Spencer’s trust in her, so it didn’t take her all that long to find the knots that had started to build in his muscles, though it _did_ take her longer than either of them might’ve wanted to loosen them up.

But soon enough, Spencer felt her sliding her fingers from his shoulders to his neck, her hands suddenly cradling the back of his head as she encouraged him to rest it back into her palms, her fingers finding the tiny little pressure points behind his ears and at the bottom of his hairline before sliding up to rub at his temples, his head now resting back against her shoulder as she continued to massage and soothe.

“...is this helping?” She whispered after a long moment, clearly hesitant to break the silence.

“Tremendously.” Oh, and his voice had deepened a bit as well. Interesting.

She continued to rub for another long moment before her touch turned feather light, and it was soon clear that she was trying to calm the muscles and nerves she’d just stimulated back down so they would relax and hopefully relieve some of the pressure in his head.

It was helping, and soon enough Spencer was surprised to find that she was helping him lay down on his side, but he was definitely _way_ more surprised to find her laying down beside him a moment later.

“...do you want to talk about it?”

No. He didn’t. He didn’t want to talk about the case or his headaches.

He wanted to know why she was doing _this_ and why she was so close to him and yet so incredibly far away and how she could possibly have this much willpower when to him it felt like a volcano was about to erupt and he was going to burn alive from it.

“Work stuff.” He answered simply.

“I had gathered as much…” She cooed, and suddenly her fingers were tracing over the contours of his face, her touch so light that it was almost easy to imagine that it wasn’t happening at all.

Spencer wanted more.

“...w-we’ve had this case. For a few months now…” He quietly admitted. “...and I’ll spare you the details, but… I think it’s getting to me.”

“How so?” He felt her shift just a touch closer, and he had to force himself to stay still and not reach out and pull her flush against him.

“We don’t normally have cases go on this long, especially with so few leads.” His eyes slid open with the admission, and while it was dark in the room, there was just enough light filtering in through his curtains that he was able to make out her profile.

She was closer than he thought she was.

“...you’re worried you won’t catch the bad guy?”

He nodded, finally giving into the urge to reach out to her, but it was just to drape his arm over her waist. He didn’t pull her closer and he didn’t tighten his hold. She could easily get away if she wanted.

But apparently she wanted to be closer, because she was suddenly much deeper into his personal bubble, and he could feel the warmth of her body again for a moment before he felt her hand on his cheek.

“I’m worried that I won’t be able to stop them from hurting more people. We’re running out of time, and I don’t know what else I can do.”

She was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about what he was saying, and he could hear the trepidation in her voice when she finally spoke again.

“I know this isn’t going to be what you want to hear, Spencer, but maybe there’s nothing else you _can_ do right now. Maybe you’ve already been given all the answers you’re allowed for this level.”

She was right, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t stop her when she continued.

“Maybe you’ve gotten lucky up to this point. Maybe there _isn’t_ anything else you can learn right now. I know it sucks, I _know_ it does, but maybe you just need to be patient.”

He hated that even more, because it was what he’d been thinking as well, but had been refusing to admit to himself.

“...but being patient and waiting for more information means someone else is going to get hurt. That’s… that’s on _me_ , Delilah.”

“No… No, Spencer.” She soothed, and his eyes slid closed again with a faint gasp as he felt her lips press against his forehead. “...that’s on the person sick enough to do whatever it is that they’re doing.”

He thought about Belinda and Alyssa. About the first three women…

About the as-yet unknown sixth victim.

“...you can’t save them all, Spencer, but it’s enough that you _try_.” She pressed another kiss to his forehead. “Not all superheros wear capes, you know?”

He nodded despite himself and flexed his fingers just a touch to give her waist a faint squeeze, and she shifted a hint closer still, the tips of his fingers _just_ sliding past the hem of her shirt to rest against the warm skin beneath.

“...do you want me to stay with you for a bit longer?” She asked after several long minutes of quiet, her voice barely disturbing that quiet at all.

His fingers flexed again, gripped her waist a touch harder and it felt like it would be absolutely impossible for him to say no.

“I… I think I’ll be okay.” He managed to reply, though she made it harder by pressing yet another kiss to his skin, this time to that spot above his eye where it felt like the ice pick had been driving into earlier.

“I’m on the other side of that wall.” She replied, slowly starting to extricate herself from the tangle of limbs they’d somehow found themselves in. “Just knock if you need me.”

He couldn’t help the faint chuckle at that. “I will… I-I promise.”

After she’d untangled herself and gotten back to her feet, she went around to his side of the bed, and he’d hear a rustle of fabric as she bent over to brush another kiss to his forehead.

“...goodnight, Spencer.”

“Sleep well, Delilah.”

And somehow, both of them knew what the other was _really_ saying.

_”Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.” - Plato_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 points to your house for a correct guess as to why Delilah was a bit flustered discussing (or maybe _not_ discussing) what she'd researched ;)


	15. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor who apparently hasn't had the best of days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I can't with how amazing all of you are. Seriously. You're the best and I can't believe you're still liking this little story!

_”Hardship makes the world obscure.” - Don DeLillo_

“Una Davidson. Music student at Georgetown…”

It read so much like many of the others.

Hell, Una and Belinda had taken some of the same _classes_ , had likely attended some of the same events.

...could’ve been friends.

_Twenty. One hundred thirty seven pounds, dark blonde curly hair - **curly hair again?** \- brown eyes. Caucasian. Three piercings in each of her ears, tattoo across her shoulders of shooting stars and a moon. Currently single._

“She went missing last night.” JJ informed them, going over the details of the case for those that couldn’t read as quickly as Reid. “Went to a concert on campus but never made it back to her dorm. Her roommate reported it to the RA this morning. They found her cellphone and her purse dumped just off one of the bike paths.”

_She’d probably been walking alone. Probably had been ambushed and grabbed before she’d even known what was happening._

“This is the third victim now that’s been somehow tied to Georgetown,” Morgan noted, the rest of the team nodding along in agreement. “Two current students and one potential.”

“And all of them somehow tied to the Arts.” Emily added.

“And two of them tied to the music program.” JJ further commented.

“So, we’re thinking that our Unsub was likely a former music student at Georgetown?” Rossi summed up. “Or that she was maybe _rejected_ by Georgetown?”

They were finally starting to narrow down the profile, finally starting to make headway on who their Unsub was, but they all knew that identifying her was half the battle.

They still had to find her and _her_ sub before they could put this case to rest.

But something was better than nothing, and it was time for them to start canvassing the area from which Una had been taken.

~+~+~+~

Una had put up a fight, at least, though by all appearances it hadn’t been much of one.

She’d been overpowered physically - perhaps she’d been drugged? - but there were signs in the dirt that she’d at least attempted to stop what was happening to her.

“Our Unsubs were here together.” Morgan was saying, looking over some of the shoe patterns in the dirt - not enough to get treads from, but enough to know general sizes - and Reid was calculating distances even as he nodded at what Morgan was saying.

“They knew the surrounding trees would provide enough cushion against any sort of sound she might’ve made. She probably walked through here a lot going back and forth between classes.” Spencer gave a small sigh.

“They studied her.” Emily growled.

“Or at least the Dom did.” Spencer agreed. “Her sub is just the grunt, but she’s likely been studying all of her victims to an extreme level of detail. After they’ve been grabbed, there has to be times when she’s still studying while her sub... “

He couldn’t really finish the sentence, but then again, he didn’t really need to.

~+~+~+~

“It’s a no-go on the Endo.” Garcia’s voice chirped at them through the phone as the team sat around the conference table the next day. “At least for as far as I can tell. Una wasn’t a member of the website, and it doesn’t look there’s any search history of it on her computer either.”

“Any living female relatives?” Spencer asked. Una’s mother had died when she was six.

“Uh… Yes. She has an older sister, Ramona and an Aunt on her father’s side, Jessica.” He could hear Garcia typing away for a moment. “Though from what I can see it doesn’t immediately look like either of them were sufferers either.”

“Alright. Thanks Garcia.”

“Anytime, pumpkin.”

“I think we need to talk to Una’s roommate.” Emily piped up and JJ was nodding in agreement.

“Why do you say that?” Rossi asked, though it was clear all of the men in the room were a little confused.

“Who else do you discuss any sort of female problems you’re having with but your closest female friends?” JJ answered with a shrug. “The records show Una and her roommate Maggie had lived together since freshman year. Maggie would probably tell us-” she gestured between herself and Emily. “-if Una was having any sort of problems in that area.”

“Alright. You two go check that out-” Hotch agreed, shuffling some papers together. “-Rossi, you’re with me. We’re going to go speak with the Dean and talk to him about quietly upping security. Reid, I’d like you and Morgan to go talk to the professors in the music and arts departments. See if you can find anything else that links our victims together.”

~+~+~+~

“Oh, Una! She’s a brilliant student.” One of her professors, a Doctor Cameron Michaels, was telling Spencer and Morgan. “I heard she’d gone missing. Any news on that front? I’d hate to hear that anything bad had happened to her…”

Like going missing wasn’t bad enough?

“We’re still investigating, sir.” Morgan supplied, not really elaborating further. “But we were hoping you could tell us a little bit more about Miss Davidson? Perhaps what she was studying, that sort of thing.”

“She’s one of our performing students. Focus in piano, but I believe she’s also minoring in art? I have her for musical theory and I know she does exceedingly well in that, but I’m not her advisor so I couldn’t tell you exactly what her plans are.”

“Could you tell us who her advisor is?” Spencer asked.

“Of course. I’m fairly certain it’s Doctor Imogen Clyde. She should just be finishing up her Musicology 101 class before her office hours.”

They thanked Doctor Michaels after getting directions to Doctor Clyde’s classroom and made their way over.

By the end of the afternoon, they’d learned that Una was a high-achieving student, that she was actually a double major in piano and art with a minor in psychology, and that she was planning on furthering her studies so she could get into rehabilitations.

Emily and JJ had also gathered enough information from Una’s roommate Maggie to perhaps suggest that Una was an undiagnosed Endo case.

And yes, Una and Belinda had definitely known one another and had even been something of friends.

At least they had a good grip on victimology at that point, even if narrowing down the Unsubs was taking a bit longer.

~+~+~+~

Spencer was surprised when he got back to his apartment that night to find Delilah standing outside her door with what looked like a locksmith, though at least she gave him a small smile as he approached.

“Everything okay?” He asked by way of greeting.

“Key broke off in the lock.” She replied, sounding as tired as she looked and Spencer was maybe a little bit surprised when she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder, though he wrapped his arm around her to hold her close all the same.

Maybe he was looking for a little bit of warmth and comfort himself, after all.

“That should fix it.” The locksmith reported as he pushed himself to his feet. “I was able to get the piece out and get the door unlocked for you, though you’ll want to talk to your super about getting a new lock for it. The sooner the better, you know?”

Delilah nodded and thanked the man, pulling a twenty out of her purse to tip him.

“You two have a good night.”

Delilah thanked him again before turning to push her way into her apartment, dragging Spencer in with her, and as soon as her door was locked - thankfully that was still possible from the inside - she turned back to him and sort of just… Fell into his arms.

And immediately started crying.

“Hey, hey… Ssssh…” He quietly tried to soothe, wrapping his arms around her and dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “...it’s okay. It’s just a lock. It happens.”

“S’not that…” She sniffed. “...not _just_ that.”

Spencer didn’t push for an answer anymore than she immediately supplied one, but merely held her as she seemed to so desperately need, though as she started to pull back after a long, quiet handful of minutes, he loosened his hold on her, lifting a hand to cup her cheek and brush away some of her tears as she looked up at him.

“Bad day?”

She nodded and suddenly grimaced, shifting her stance slightly and lifting a hand to rest against her abdomen.

“Ugh… I’m gonna go change and get cleaned up. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time.” He murmured, starting to suspect what the source of her problem was. “...I’ll order us something to eat.”

She nodded again, giving him a grateful smile before turning and heading towards her bedroom, and he’d hear a faint click as she shut the door behind her.

Pulling out his phone, he sent out a silent thanks to Garcia for encouraging him to embrace the wonders of modern technology and food apps, a meal ordered and on its way to them in just a few simple clicks.

Somehow he doubted the double chocolate milkshake he’d ordered for Delilah would be unwelcomed.

Busying himself by fiddling with her tv while he waited, he pulled up her Netflix account and was just searching for a movie to watch when she quietly padded back out to join him, having changed into a pair of black sweatpants and a dark green tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and face scrubbed of the little bit of makeup she’d been wearing.

Without a word, he patted the space beside him, inviting her to sit before handing her the remote so she could pick out something for them to watch.

“Any preferences?” She quietly asked.

“Whatever you want. I’m not picky.”

He wasn’t really surprised when she picked the 2005 version of _Phantom of the Opera,_ and besides, this would give him the opportunity to find out just why she liked it so much.

Before she could hit play, though, there was a knock on her door, and Spencer was pleased to note that it was the delivery man with their food when he checked through the peephole.

“...did you get me a burger?”

“A burger with extra bacon, extra pickled jalapenos, and pepperjack cheese.” He replied as he took a seat back down next to her, setting the food down on her coffee table. “I hope you don’t mind sharing the fries?”

He was just turning his head to check and make sure that was okay when-

_Oh…_

_**Oh!** _

Her lips were even softer than he’d imagined, and a faint tremor went through him as the kiss suddenly changed because they both seemed to realize at the same time what was happening but neither of them really wanted it to _stop._

Spencer Reid had an eidetic memory, so he remembered every single kiss he’d ever been a part of. He remembered how good the kiss with Lila had been, but this? Here, now, with Delilah?

He knew in that moment, without a doubt, that there was no one else he ever wanted to kiss again.

They pulled back from each other a moment later to rest their foreheads together, and Spencer was somewhat pleased to note that Delilah was just as breathless as he was, and he licked his lips before quietly murmuring her name.

“...I was aiming for your cheek.” She giggled, her nose brushing against his.

“I’m glad you missed.”

“...so am I…”

He wanted to keep kissing her, wanted to find out what she tasted like, but her stomach chose that moment to rumble in hunger and with another chuckle and a bit of blushing they both pulled back and reached for their meals - he noticed she might’ve teared up a touch at the milkshake - settling in to eat immediately after.

“...thank you for dinner.” She spoke up once she was about halfway through her burger, catching Spencer as he munched on a french fry, and he gave her a nod, but before he could properly reply, she kept going.

“The milkshake in particular is appreciated.”

“I thought it might be.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his own strawberry one. “...but then again, chocolate cures a lot of ills.”

“...is it awkward for you?” She suddenly asked, blushing as she dropped her eyes to the last few bites of the burger she held in her hands. “Knowing that _that’s_ going on with me right now?”

“Why should it be?” He frowned, reaching out his free hand to rest on her arm. “It happens to every uterus owner on the planet. It’s not like you can _control_ it, Delilah. Besides, I _want_ to do whatever you need to make you feel better.” He chuckled again. “I’m courting you, remember? Making you feel good is part of the territory.”

Those big brown eyes of hers turned up towards him suddenly, and Spencer was struck again with a sense of awe that this incredible, smart, talented and _beautiful_ woman wanted to be with him. _Him._

“You know... there’s a part of me right now wishing that there were more men like you on the planet. The bigger, more-selfish part of me is exceedingly glad that it’s just you.” She leaned closer to him again, just barely brushing her lips against his, and he couldn’t quite help it when he followed after her just a hint when she pulled back once more.

“...because just one of you means that I get to keep you for myself.”

There was something there, in her words and in her eyes when Spencer met her gaze again, something that made his heart skip a beat, and he could tell by the way that she softened again that that same emotion was there in his eyes, too.

But now wasn’t the time to say it. Not yet.

Instead, they each set the remains of dinner aside before shifting their positions on the couch a bit, Delilah curling up in his arms before pulling a blanket off the back of the couch to drape over their legs. Another moment and they’d settled completely, Spencer reaching to turn off the light while Delilah started the movie.

Spencer couldn’t remember ever having felt more at peace.

_”The simplification of life is one of the steps to inner peace. A persistent simplification will create an inner and outer well-being that places harmony in one’s life.” - Peace Pilgrim_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of plot, bit of romance. The next chapter is all Spencer and Delilah.
> 
> Also, I just finished writing Chapter 20. It's a doozy.
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if you want to. I mostly post pictures of Spencer and Delilah, but I'm going to be unveiling my inspirational playlist for this fic sometime tomorrow.
> 
> I might also start posting snippets of future chapters there if people are interested?


	16. Comforts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor. Apparently she moves a lot in her sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still just absolutely can _not_ get over the reaction that y'all have had for this story, and I hope that you all continue to love reading this as much as I'm loving writing it.  
>  Bit of a shorter chapter, and pretty much all Reid and Delilah. Basically a continuation of where we left them at the end of the last chapter and more of Reid taking care of his girl.

_”People crave comfort; people crave connection; people crave community.” - Marianne Williamson_

“Shit… _Shit!_ ”

Spencer jumped at the sudden sound of swearing - swearing that only grew more intense the longer it went on - and was jolted as he was suddenly tugged forward.

It would seem that he and Delilah had fallen asleep curled up together on the couch, and in her haste to get away, she’d tugged him half-off the couch with her.

“...Delilah?!” He called out, trying to remember how his legs worked even as he heard her bedroom door close, but it wasn’t until he’d made it a couple of steps that he realized his legs felt… Weird.

No. It wasn’t his legs. It was his pants. They felt… Wet. Sticky.

_...what?_

Reaching down to touch, his fingers came away stained with something dark, and in the low light of the television’s screensaver, he could just make out what looked like-

_Ah. That explains a few things._

Wiping his hand back off on his trousers - they were already a mess, so what did it matter? - he made his way towards the back of the apartment, giving a careful knock on her bedroom door before quietly calling out to her.

“...can I come in?”

He heard more swearing from the other side and what sounded like gentle crying, but no immediate answer from her.

“Delilah…?”

“I’m kind of a mess right now, Spencer.”

“I know. Can I come in?”

There was a rather pregnant pause as Delilah clearly weighed her options, but after a long moment he heard her murmur her agreement and he carefully pushed open the door, not really surprised to find that she’d closed the bathroom door as well.

The light in her bedroom was on, so he was able to get a better look at himself, and he winced slightly at the sight of the stain on his trousers, though it took him a moment to figure out how it might’ve happened.

Maybe, in their sleep, they’d shifted and his leg had been between hers? So when she’d moved…

“Christ, I’m so sorry…” He started slightly as he heard her speak, having not realized that she’d emerged from the bathroom wearing a new set of clothes, her cheeks and nose and eyes a little red from her sudden crying, but he was trying to reassure her even as he reached out to her.

She stopped him before he got too close, reaching out to take his hand and it was then he realized it was maybe a little bit stained and he hadn’t wiped everything off.

“Ugh… I’m sorry again. Come here.”

He didn’t protest as she pulled him into the bathroom - he absently noted that she’d used a lot of dark blues and greys to decorate it - nor did he protest when she started furiously scrubbing at his skin with soap and warm water - but he _did_ pull his hand back when she moved to start scrubbing it a second time.

“Delilah… Delilah don’t. It’s okay…”

“It’s _really_ not.”

“Hey… Hey look at me.” He pulled his hand away, ignoring the wet as he lifted it to cup her cheek, encouraging her once more to look at him. “It’s okay. I promise.”

“...I ruined your pants.”

“Cold water and a long soak will help. Push comes to shove, I can always buy another pair.”

She sniffed, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to the space between her eyes.

“Accidents happen. You really don’t have to be upset about this.”

“Why are you so understanding?” She asked, her hands fisting in his shirt as she leaned into him suddenly, burying her face against his chest, and he wrapped his arms tight around her in response, brushing another kiss to the top of her head.

“...I just want to make you feel good, remember? There’s no use getting upset over accidents, and I’m fairly certain you didn’t do this on purpose.”

“Ugh. No. It’s gross and I’m just…” She pulled back suddenly, pulling a face as she looked back up at him. “...I’m really embarrassed right now.”

“Please don’t be…” He soothed, hand shifting to cup her cheek again. “...I’m not upset. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She nodded, sniffing again but she made no move to pull out of his embrace. “Yeah, I-I’m okay. Unfortunately, this is fairly normal.”

He frowned at that, remembering their conversation a month previously when he’d first asked her permission to court her.

“...have you spoken to a doctor about it?”

“Yes, but honestly, Spencer, this um… This isn’t exactly a conversation I want to have at three in the morning while you’re standing there in stained pants and I can feel my Midol starting to wear off.”

“Oh…” He blushed, but nodded, suddenly feeling awkward and maybe a little intrusive. “...I-I understand.”

She frowned, and then suddenly looked guilty as her words suddenly hit her. “I-I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s okay. Really.”

“It’s really not. I just meant…” She sighed, eyes dropping again to inspect a button on his shirt. “...I wouldn’t mind talking with you about this. It… It might be good information for you to know one day. But right now, I-I’d rather curl up in bed and go back to sleep.”

She looked up at him then, and he nodded, making a move to step back, but she frowned and didn’t exactly let him go.

“...I didn’t mean for that to sound like I wanted you to go, Spencer.”

He swallowed. Hard. But made no further move to leave.

“...I um… I don’t exactly have anything to wear.” Curling up with her on the couch and accidentally falling asleep in his clothes was one thing, but actually _sleeping_ in his clothes was another story entirely.

And he suspected she didn’t have anything here that would fit him.

“You could go back to your place…” She responded, licking her lips and biting down slightly in hesitation before going on with her suggestion. “...get changed and then come back?”

He was tempted. Sorely. But he shouldn’t. This was moving awfully quickly, and they’d promised to go slow with this.

“...I’ll be back in a few minutes, then.”

It was just to sleep, and maybe the thought of waking up to her in the morning made the concept of facing the rest of the day a little bit easier to handle.

~+~+~+~

Spencer came to slowly the next morning, his arms wrapped tight around Delilah from behind, his nose buried in her curls that seemed to be a bit wilder now after she’d slept on them all night.

With a faint groan he shifted slightly, hoping that maybe he could go back to sleep for a little bit, but she made a little sleepy noise of protest herself and any thoughts of sleep suddenly fled from his mind.

“...mornin’...” She murmured, pushing herself back against him as far as she could, seemingly seeking out warmth which he was happy to provide.

“Good morning…” He replied, tightening his hold on her a fraction even as he shifted to drop a kiss to the warm skin of her shoulder. “...how did you sleep?”

“Good.” She half-yawned before turning her head enough so that she could peer back at him. “You?”

“Well, thank you.” He dropped another kiss to her shoulder before moving to press one to her temple, noting the way she sighed contentedly at the gesture before carefully shifting so that she could turn and face him directly.

Spencer immediately lifted a hand to brush a stray curl out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear before his palm came to rest against her cheek, his eyes studying hers in the early-morning light that was _just_ filtering through her curtains.

Delilah slid a little bit closer, their legs tangling a bit together as she did so and Spencer was starting to think that he maybe never ever wanted to let her go.

The two of them were starting to lean in a little bit closer to one another, noses just brushing together and it was quickly becoming apparent that despite the fact neither of them had brushed their teeth yet, a languid morning make-out session was about to happen.

But then Spencer’s phone started ringing, and both of them jumped at the sudden sound.

With a low growl, Spencer disentangled himself just enough to reach over and grab his phone off the bedside table.

Work.

“...hello?”

“Reid? It’s Morgan. There’s a problem with the case.”

“What kind of a problem?” Spencer could see Delilah frown and felt pretty confident that it was matching his own.

“A big one. How soon can you get here?”

“Give me an hour? I just woke up…”

Derek confirmed that he’d heard Spencer’s response before hanging up, and Spencer turned his attentions back to Delilah with a heavier heart.

“...I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Duty calls.” She leaned forward to press a kiss to that now-familiar spot just to the side of his lips, and it took every ounce of willpower that Spencer had not to turn his head because he _desperately_ wanted to feel that tingle on his lips. “Go be Superman.”

He sighed but nodded all the same before carefully pulling away from her and climbing out of bed. “I’ll call you when I can.”

~+~+~+~

Thankfully, he made it to the office with a couple of minutes to spare, and was pleased to note that there was a fresh pot of coffee brewing.

Morgan got to him before he could get to the coffee pot, however, and his greeting words stopped Spencer dead in his tracks.

“Una’s body was found a few hours ago.”

_”Hope is the only universal liar who never loses his reputation for veracity.” - Robert Green Ingersoll_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, bit of a shorter chapter. Chapter 17 is a bit more plot-heavy, so it'll be longer. Things are starting to turn darker, though, especially now that I'm getting into the 20s with chapter writing ;)
> 
> As always, you can hit me up on my [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/). I'm trying to start posting there a bit more often. Gonna start rebageling some music and aesthetics and whatnot soon, maybe start posting some chapter snippets if anyone is interested?


	17. But the Timeline...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor. Apparently she has very elegant hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last chapter was a little bit shorter and I've written ahead _quite_ a bit, I thought I'd give you all a treat and post a bit earlier than planned.  
>  Bit more plot-heavy this time with just a bit of Spencer and Delilah at the end.

_”Life is full of happiness and tears; be strong and have faith.” -Kareena Kapoor Khan_

_”Una’s body was found a few hours ago.”_

“But… But the timeline.”

“We know, kid.”

“It’s only been a couple of days.”

“We know.” Morgan clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, trying to reassure him. “...Rossi and Hotch want us to meet them at the dump site. See if we can all figure out what happened.”

_It hasn’t even been three **days** yet._

The drive to the dump site was quiet, and Spencer spent most of it racking his brain trying not to fixate on what _might’ve_ happened, especially given he didn’t know any details yet.

“We think there was an accident.” Rossi murmured as Morgan and Spencer came up to them, and Spencer noted that Hotch was off to the side speaking to local PD officers.

“What sort of accident?” Morgan asked even as Spencer bent down to carefully lift the sheet that was covering Una’s body.

_Staged the same way as the others. Hands form a ‘U’. Three zip ties. Body doesn’t appear to be as abused as the others, though._

“...she’s got a few track marks on her arms…” Spencer murmured, carefully leaning closer to get a closer look. “Maybe she overdosed on whatever they were giving her?”

Rossi nodded, clearly thinking the same thing.

“But did they ever find track marks on any of the other victims?” Morgan asked, and Spencer answered with a shake of his head.

“Even though the ME’s found traces of Dilaudid previously, it was never specifically stated how it got into the bloodstream.” Spencer had suspected that Alyssa had been forced to drink it, and he wondered why Una had been given injections instead. “Dilaudid can also cause extreme respiratory distress. She might’ve stopped breathing and our unsubs didn’t know how to resuscitate her.”

Hotch started making his way over to them then, a deep frown etched into his features.

“JJ and Emily went to talk to Una’s parents. PD wants to clean up the scene as soon as possible since the forecast is calling for rain over the next several days. We’re all staying here. Canvas the area. Gather as much information as you can, take as many pictures as possible.”

“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan added. “Give her a head’s up to be on the lookout for our next potential vic. Our unsubs might take another victim early since things got screwed up with this one.”

Hotch and Rossi nodded their agreement at the same time, but something was still bothering Spencer. Something he couldn’t name, couldn’t put a finger on.

But the dark clouds starting to roll in weren’t going to give him the time to think, so he turned his attentions where they needed to be, and quietly let his thoughts run in the background where they could simmer in peace.

~+~+~+~

Surprisingly, three weeks went by and still there had been no sign of another kidnapping that fit their profile.

Spencer’s birthday had fallen in the middle of it - was he _really_ thirty three now? - and while he’d gotten a few presents from the team, and a homemade birthday cake from Garcia, the simple chocolate cupcake with rainbow sprinkles that Delilah had given him along with a surprise birthday smooch that had lasted a little longer than either of them had probably planned on was definitely his favorite.

But on the last day of that third week...

“There’s been another body found.” Surprisingly, it was Garcia who was calling them in. She’d been monitoring the channels, on the watch out for any potential leads or kidnappings, and she’d unfortunately found one after the fact.

“Talk to us, baby girl.” Morgan encouraged, and all eyes turned to Garcia as she pulled up the intel she’d found on her computer and it was projected onto the screen.

“...Decina-Grace Morrison. Age Twen-”

“Wait-” Emily stopped her. “-I thought you said there was another victim in our Triple Ties case?”

“She is.” Garcia confirmed, pulling up a picture of Decina’s hands a moment later and everyone sucked in a breath of shock.

The unsub wasn’t calling out to the BAU for attention anymore?

“Guys, I-I can’t really stomach having to look through these photos again, if it’s all the same to you?” And yeah, Garcia did look a bit pale. Hotch nodded once as a sign that it was okay for her to go, and honestly, Garcia didn’t have to be told twice.

Spencer was still reading over the file, trying to comprehend it.

_Twenty nine years old. **Why the sudden shift in ages again?** Five foot seven. One hundred forty six pounds. Brown, curly hair. Blue eyes. No tattoos, single piercing in each of her ears._

“Christ, she was a Georgetown alum…” Rossi murmured.

“And the music teacher at McKinley Elementary.” JJ added.

“But why the sudden change in names?” Morgan asked, clearly voicing aloud what everyone else was already thinking.

“She’s already gotten our attention,” Emily offered, voice quiet. “Maybe she’s trying to prove that she can outthink us. Harder to pinpoint potential kidnapping victims if their names are more random.”

“She knows how large the pool of potential victims is if she doesn’t discriminate with their names. She knows she’s just made this harder for us again.” Hotch agreed.

_As it’s said, serial killers make the best profilers, and this one certainly knew how to read **them.**_

~+~+~+~

There were still too many unknowns concerning the latest change to the case, and Spencer _did not_ like it.

Usually, this far along in a case, the unsub had settled on a definite person. Had settled on a definite type, and Spencer had even though that perhaps she had.

So why the sudden shift in age again? Why was Decina-Grace chosen as a victim? What made her similar enough to the other victims that the age wasn’t a factor anymore?

And why the sudden change in names? Spencer wasn’t entirely buying that it was just to throw them off, especially considering that up until that point the unsub had made it _exceedingly_ clear that she was targeting them specifically.

So, did this mean she was targeting them individually? Decina-Grace Morrison…  
Her initials were almost the same as Derek’s, and Decina fit in with the unsubs preferred patterns of three…

...was she making this even _more_ personal now?

~+~+~+~

“Hey, Garcia?”

“Yes, my wonderboy?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Name it.”

“So, we know more or less what our unsub’s victimology is at this point.” Spencer started to spell out, knowing Garcia would be able to keep up. “She has something of a preferred age group, we know her most recent victims have all been tied to Georgetown-”

“-I’ve got the list and I’m following.”

“Do you think you could compile a list of women-”

“-I’m following where you’re going with this. Consider it done.”

“Thanks, Garcia.” He grinned. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something that I don’t know.”

~+~+~+~

“Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?”

The question caught him by surprise, and he blinked over to where Delilah was curled up in the corner of his couch watching him as he cooked dinner for them.

She’d baked mini apple pies, so really, it was a fair trade off.

“I um… I don’t know yet. Why?”

“Just wondering.” She shrugged before immediately returning her attentions to the black binder in her lap, and Spencer watched her for a moment as she moved through the motions of conducting the piece she was studying.

Setting the wooden spoon he’d been using aside and covering the pan with a lid, he moved to sit next to her for a moment while he waited for the chicken to finish cooking, studying the easy, elegant way with which she moved her hands for a long moment, not really realizing that she was occasionally watching him, too.

“...Tony and his wife, Collette, are hosting Thanksgiving dinner this year.” She finally broke the silence to say, her hands quietly falling to rest in her lap. “All of her family is coming - and it’s a _big_ family - and they’ve invited me, and Tony wants you to come along, too.”

She paused for a second, biting down gently on her lower lip, and Spencer knew he was going to accept even before she officially asked him.

“...I’d really like it, too, if you came along with me, Spencer.”

“I’d love to.”

He knew he’d agree to anything if she kept smiling at him like _that_.

She opened her mouth to say something further, but suddenly jumped, and it took him a second - and her pulling her phone out of her pocket - for him to realize she must’ve been receiving a phone call, and her phone had been on vibrate.

“Sorry, babe, I should take this…”

He flushed a bit at the nickname, nodding all the same before getting to his feet and going to check on their dinner, not wanting to risk burning the chicken.

She didn’t talk for a long - it sounded like she was making some excuses - but at least the conversation ended on a good note, and once she ended the call she got up and crossed the floro to come and stand behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and he felt some familiar tingling as she pressed a kiss to the space between his shoulder blades.

“Sorry about that…”

“No need for apologies.” He replied, lifting his free hand to rest over hers while the other carefully flipped over the chicken.

“Old friend called. Said she’s in town and wanted to get together.” He could feel her rest her cheek against his back, and he grinned to himself at the prolonged contact. “She didn’t know that I don’t live in New York anymore.”

“Where did you meet her?”

“We took a couple of classes together at NYU. She was a performance major, so a couple of our music classes overlapped.” He shifted as she moved to come and stand by his side, his arm wrapping around her shoulders to pull her close, and his smile grew a bit as she snuggled in against his side. “Last I heard she was working for some PR company out of Miami.”

He nodded, but was stopped from saying anything further by the timer going off, and he reluctantly let her go so he could check to make sure the chicken was actually cooked all the way through.

“It’s so weird that she called me now…” Delilah mentioned after they’d settled and she’d taken a couple of bites of food. “...I mean, we were friends but it’s been _years_ since we spoke.”

Spencer took a sip of his wine, an eyebrow arching slightly at her words and he swallowed his mouthful before answering.

“And she just… Wanted to see you?”

“Yeah. Said she wanted to see me and catch up. I guess it’s not _that_ weird.” She shrugged before going on. “We were fairly close in college, but she started dating this guy right after we graduated… I didn’t really care for him, to be frank.”

Spencer wasn’t really going to ask why, but Delilah was elaborating anyway.

“He was _super_ clingy. Possessive sometimes. Like, all of her attention had to be given to him, and we could only go out if he went with us. I wasn’t down for that.”

“Are they still together?”

“No, they split a few years ago, I think?”

“Maybe that’s why she’s reaching out then. She wants to reconnect since she _can_ now.”

Delilah nodded, a soft grin spreading across her lips again. “Yeah. You’re probably right. I told her I live in DC now and she said something about maybe coming through here in the next few weeks right after Thanksgiving.”

“I think you should meet up with her. Maybe just for coffee or something, but you definitely seem interested in reconnecting.”

“Maria was a good friend,” She nodded. “I think I _will_ have that cup of coffee with her when she’s in town.”

The conversation started to shift then as the couple continued to eat, but Spencer was glad that Delilah was going to be able to make this reconnection. She deserved to have friends.

She deserved to have everything.

_”I think careful cooking is love, don’t you? The loveliest thing you can cook for someone who’s close to you is about as nice a valentine as you can give.” -Julia Child_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all, did you know that? You're amazing and brilliant and I couldn't ask for better readers.  
> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if you'd like :)


	18. A Break?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, who apparently has a bit of talent in the kitchen herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. _Y'all._ I love you. Seriously.  
>  I absolutely, 100% believe that I have the best readers. Y'all rock.

_”Discovering witnesses is just as important as catching criminals.” Simon Wiesenthal_

“Crunching all of the numbers and cross-referencing everything to get the list you asked for has taken a bit of time…” Garcia was telling him, happily sipping away on the cup of coffee he’d brought her. “...but I’ve got something at least.”

“How many names?” Spencer asked, pulling up a chair beside her to watch as she brought the list up on her screen.

“Many.” Another sip of her coffee. “Close to four hundred.”

“That’s a lot to try and put into protective custody.”

“Do you think it can be done?”

“Even if we try,” He gave a small, sort-of-helpless shrug. “I’m worried that it’ll just get our unsub to change again. She’s already changed her MO a few times now, so what’s stopping her from doing it again?”

“But by that logic, she could do it at will, even without prompting from us.”

“I know, and trying to even warn these women could cause a panic given the higher number of potential victims.”

“So what do we do?”

He was quiet again for a moment, re-reading the list again - almost four hundred potential victims, all of whom met the unsubs current criteria to a T - and he shook his head.

“I don’t know, Garcia. I really don’t.”

~+~+~+~

Another three weeks had passed since Decina-Grace Morrison’s body was found, when something interesting happened.

Given the extensiveness of the list Garcia had compiled, it had been decided that Garcia would simply keep a track on the women and if anything unusual for them happened, her system would report it.

On the morning of that third week, one of the women - a Jessica Jackson - was a no-call, no-show at the middle school where she worked as a general arts teacher.

Further investigations showed that she’d gone out on a first date the night before, and _further_ digging from there showed that she’d left the restaurant with the man she’d met and had gotten into his car with him despite having taken a taxi to the restaurant.

Thankfully, the restaurant had surveillance to help combat people leaving without paying, but rather _un_ fortunately, the guy Jessica had come in with had managed to keep his back to the cameras throughout the night.

But they could still get some information on him, and Spencer… well. Spencer liked what he saw.

“Notice how he deliberately makes a point of keeping her talking-” He pointed out, gesturing to the screen where a clip was looping of the two eating dinner. “-he’s taking control of the situation by making it seem like she actually has it. He’s directing the entire evening because he’s trying to seem interested.”

“He’s trying to lure her into a false sense of security,” Rossi added on. “So when he asks if maybe she wants to go somewhere else to continue talking…”

“...she jumps at it.” Emily finished. “We can’t see his face, but he’s taller, seems to be in good shape. So here’s this attractive guy listening to her every word, paying for a _very_ nice dinner, and he suggests going somewhere where they can talk some more.”

The video switched over to another clip, and Morgan sat up a bit straighter all of a sudden. “...did anyone else just see that?”

“See what?” Hotch asked before instructing Spencer to rewind just a touch.

“That- there!” Morgan pointed, and it was subtle but-

“She stumbled.” JJ murmured, and Spencer could only imagine what she was feeling sharing initials with the victim.

At least they didn’t look all that much alike.

“It’s small, but it’s there.” Morgan agreed.

“Think it was an accident, or did our charming, attractive guy slip her something to make her more pliable?” Emily asked, though the question was clearly rhetorical.

“I’ll go back over the tapes.” Spencer offered. “See if I can see anything that might suggest he did.”

~+~+~+~

_[txt] Cancel Thanksgiving :(_

Spencer frowned at the text he’d received from Delilah before shooting a quick one back after pausing the video he was watching for the third time.

**[txt] What happened? Is everything okay?**

_[txt] Collette went into labor way early. She and baby Abigail are both okay, but Abigail is probably going to be in the NICU for a while until she grows a bit more._

**[txt] I’m glad to hear they’re both okay. Don’t worry about Thanksgiving, though. We’ll figure something out if you want.**

_[txt] You want to come over tonight and discuss it over dinner? I was gonna make pizza :)_

Spencer’s stomach growled at the suggestion. **[txt] I’ll try to be out of here by seven?**

_[txt] Sounds perfect. See you then._

“Hey Reid, you got a minute?”

Spencer jumped slightly at the sudden question, quickly locking his phone before sliding it back into his pocket and turning to address the speaker.

“Sure, Morgan. What’s up?”

“I mostly just wanted to check in on you. See how it’s going with the video surveillance.”

Spencer sighed before gesturing Morgan closer, waiting until the other man had taken a seat beside him before he rewound the tape and then pointed towards their suspected unsub.

“Watch the wine glass.”

It took a couple of tries for Morgan to see it - just as it had Spencer because the motion was so small - but…

“So, he _did_ slip something into her drink.”

“It looks that way, yes, though obviously I have no idea what exactly it was.”

“Did he pay with a credit card that night?”

“He did, but when I had Garcia look into it, she discovered that the card and account information had been copied, and that the owner had reported it missing when he saw _this_ dinner pop up in his account overview.”

“Any idea when it might’ve been copied?”

“Garcia was looking into that as well, but I haven’t heard anything back from her about it yet.”

Morgan gave a nod then, leaning back in his chair a bit as he studied the younger man sitting next to him.

“...this guy’s smart. Probably as smart as our female unsub. I mean, the guy knows _exactly_ where the cameras are and knows how to move to avoid being seen-”

“Wait. How would he know that unless he’d been at that restaurant before and been there _multiple_ times?”

“You think he’s taken our women there before?”

“Or maybe he chose that restaurant because he used to work there. He seemed pretty comfortable with the wait staff from what I can tell from the videos, and it would explain how he knew where the cameras were and how to avoid them.”

“I’ll grab Emily. Tell Hotch she and I are going to the restaurant to show a picture of Jessica around. See if anyone remembers her and _especially_ see if they remember the guy she was with.”

Spencer nodded his understanding, hoping that maybe they’d caught a break.

~+~+~+~

After relaying Morgan’s message to both Hotch and Rossi, Spencer was sort of surprised when they told him to go home and get some rest - that Emily and Morgan could catch them all up later - but he wasn’t going to argue it or look a gift horse in the mouth this time.

Even with his train ride home, he still had almost an hour to kill before his dinner with Delilah, so he stopped by the local flower shop on his way and picked out a bouquet of Asiatic lilies in orange, yellow and red, hoping that Delilah would like them.

Sure, he’d subconsciously been profiling her from the moment he met her, but that didn’t mean he knew things for _certain_.

Even if he _did_ know that his girl loved flowers of all types and liked to buy herself a fresh bouquet when she went to the market every week. Or that he knew she had plants on nearly every flat surface of her apartment and that she was meticulous about feeding and watering and singing to them.

Plus, they’d make her smile, and he really rather liked getting that reaction from her.

**[text] Do you need me to bring anything with me to dinner?**

He had to wait a couple of minutes for her to reply.

_[text] Nope. Just yourself and your appetite :)_

**[text] I’ll see you soon then.**

Spencer was in his apartment complex a few short minutes later, giving a nod to the maintenance man and what appeared to be his newest hire before he stepped into the elevator and made his way up to his floor.

And immediately paused as he stepped out of the elevator, eyes narrowing in confusion as he took in Delilah’s door before he approached and carefully knocked.

“Hi!” Delilah was beaming up at him as she swung open the door.

“...why is there a paper turkey attached to your door?”

“For the same reason you had a model skeleton on yours for Halloween. It’s seasonal decor.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside - taking a moment to coo over the flowers he’d brought her and giving him a grateful kiss to the cheek in response - playfully sticking her tongue out at him before turning to head back into the kitchen to find a vase.

“Are you going to have a Christmas wreath then as well?”

“It’ll be more of a Winter wreath than just general Christmas, but yes.” She had her back to him as she started to work on something at the counter, but he felt pretty confident by watching the way she moved that she was probably rolling out the pizza dough. “I make a new one every year.”

“You make them yourself?” He asked as he moved closer, grinning just a hint to himself when he noticed that he’d been right about what she was doing.

“Yep. Different theme every year.” She was stretching the dough out into a circle, and Spencer was _fascinated_ by the motions of her hands. By the motions of her upper body in general.

“...what’s your theme this year?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” She answered with a shrug before she plopped the dough down on a pan that she’d pre-prepped with what looked like cornstarch. “I was sort of thinking something musical? Like with sheet music and little cutouts to reference different winter songs maybe?”

He nodded as if he could picture it, but really he was a bit distracted by a dusting of flour that had settled on her left cheek but he was resisting the immediate urge to reach out and brush it away and instead settled for watching her as she finished stretching out the dough to fit the pan.

“Can you hand me the olive oil, please?”

He nodded at the question, moving to grab it from where it lived by the stove before handing it over, watching as she poured some out onto the dough and then spread it out with her hands.

Spencer was entranced as he watched her prepare the pizza, unable to tear his gaze away as she piled a giant mound of spinach on top of the prepared dough, followed by more goat cheese than was probably healthy, a fair amount of a variety of mushrooms and then - and _then_ \- she carefully sprinkled some Italian seasoning mix along the oiled edges before taking the pan in hand and sliding it into the oven.

Her hands were covered in oil and goat cheese once she was done, and Spencer gulped as she suddenly sucked a finger into her mouth to lick some of that concoction off.

“...care for a taste?”

Oh. She’d noticed him staring…

She was holding a hand out to him, her hand shiny from the oil and fingertips smeared with the white, sticky cheese and while he suspected that she was probably teasing him, there was a look in her eyes that suggested that maybe she wasn’t.

And Spencer was feeling like calling her bluff.

Meeting her gaze as he took a step closer, his fingers gently wrapped around her wrist to hold her hand steady as he dipped his head down and _ever-so-slowly_ sucked her index fingers between his lips, letting his tongue swirl over the digit for a moment as he cleaned off the offering before releasing it again with a faint pop, all while maintaining eye contact with her.

Oh yes, her pupils certainly dilated. Just as surely as his did, he felt certain.

“...delicious…” He murmured, licking his lips once as if to reiterate and he noticed the way her eyes dropped to study the motion of his tongue.

She was also moving closer towards him, and Spencer found that his own gaze had dropped to study her lips, noting the way they were _just_ parted, that there was a bit more color in her cheeks, that her breathing was suddenly a bit deeper.

While the one hand was still holding her wrist the other had settled at her waist, sliding around to rest at the small of her back as the two of them started to move closer together, chests bumping together even as he dipped his head and their noses did the same.

She giggled faintly at the contact, the sound making Spencer smile, though his eyes had slid closed at their proximity so he didn’t see the way her eyes fluttered shut when they both angled their heads and their lips _finally_ met.

This was, officially, their third kiss but the first two had been quieter, more innocent in a lot of ways.

They hadn’t _explored_ one another yet, but now, standing in the quiet of her kitchen as they waited for their dinner to cook, Spencer found that he very much wanted to do so.

Delilah seemed to want to as well, if the way her still-sticky fingers fisted in his shirt was any indication, her lips parting with a faint gasp as his hand slid down her arm to wrap more-fully around her shoulders, pulling her flush against him as his lips parted to deepen the kiss a bit further.

She tasted of the tea she’d been drinking and of the oil on her fingers and faintly of the tangy goat cheese as well, but underneath it all was the taste of her.

She was better than Dilaudid, and Spencer knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was one addiction he’d be happy to _never_ kick.

He wanted to keep kissing her, wanted to know what else could make her gasp besides the faint scrape of his teeth against her lower lip, wanted to feel her hands tangle in his hair while his own hands traced up the column of her spine to see if she’d shudder…

**BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP**

They sprang apart with faint cries of alarm as the kitchen timer went off, both of them breaking out into giggles as they realized it was just time to check on the pizza to see if it had finished baking, and Spencer watched as Delilah moved to do so.

“...it’ll need a minute to cool…” She murmured as she carefully maneuvered it onto the cutting board, though he was a little confused when she suddenly winced as she looked at him.

“Something wrong?”

She was looking pointedly at his shirt, but he couldn’t quite tell wha- Oh.

“I seem to have developed a habit for ruining your clothes.”

There were marks all over the cloth from her hands and the combined oil and goat cheese, though Spencer couldn’t stop the faint smirk as he looked up at her, noting her deepening blush as he replied.

“Worth it.”

_”It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.” - Christian Nestell Bovee_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to heat up with our babies. I'm excited for what's to come. Y'all should be as well ;)
> 
> Big plotty things are also happening. I'm writing chapter 25 now but I'm already plotting out 26 and y'all I'm making my cry a bit with the plotting.
> 
> Also thinking about writing some standalone drabble pieces for this story if anyone is interested? There are so many fun little moments (past, present _and_ future) that I could write about but would clog up the flow of the story but I still want to share them with y'all? I'd probably do it as separate series that would just randomly update in no particular chronological order, but I wasn't sure if it was something that you all would be interested in.
> 
> As always, feel free to hit me up on my [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/). I think I might post the first of these drabbles I'm thinking about over there sometime today/tomorrow? Something holiday-ish, methinks.
> 
> ~Love to you all~


	19. Suggestions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, and apparently she's quite trustworthy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of just before I posted this chapter, I'm up to almost 2,700 hits on this story and y'all I literally _can't_. I'm floored by the continued support and love that I get for this little fanfic and let me tell ya, it's definitely keeping me motivated!!

_”All human nature vigorously resists grace because grace changes us and the change is painful.” - Flannery O’Connor_

_Three days after she went missing, Jessica Jackson’s body was found. Another woman - Amanda Hunter - went missing a few short hours later._

_Three days later, she was found as well._

_Emery Paige was next._

_Then Dani Roberts._

_Then Poppy Grant._

_Finally was Stephanie Richards._

_All women in their mid- to late-twenties. All with curly hair (though hair colors varied a bit). All with degrees from or connections to Georgetown, though Dani’s was through her husband. All of them were somehow connected with the Arts._

_All of them had been drugged, abducted, beaten and raped repeatedly, and then left for dead, hopefully so stoned out of their minds on Dilaudid that they hadn’t actually been aware of what was happening to them._

“Stephanie Richards had a note pinned to her chest,” Emily muttered to the team, having just come back after speaking with the coroner’s office.

“When you say pinned…” Rossi started to ask, but at the look on her face, he fell silent.

She’d quite literally meant _pinned to her chest_.

“What did it say?” Hotch asked and Emily pulled out her phone so she could show off the picture she’d taken while they waited for the evidence to be processed.

__**BAU,  
My newest collection is complete. Perhaps I should start another?  
~Yours**

“What does she mean by _collection_?” Morgan asked, and Spencer could feel himself frown at the question, though he hazarded a guess all the same.

“She’s completed the team. She’s matched all of us to one of her victims, so it’s time to start with something new. Throw us off the trail again.”

“Where could she possibly go from here?” JJ asked, and an uncomfortable silence filled the room at the question.

None of them could really answer, after all.

~+~+~+~

_All of these women were connected to Georgetown. They all were either suspected or diagnosed cases of Endometriosis._

_..._

_Or they were mothers. Who weren’t connected to Georgetown, but were killed because they somehow reminded the unsub of her own mother?_

_Why Dilaudid? Why not heroin or ketamine?_

_Why curly hair in the latest victims but not the others?_

_Too many similarities. Too many inconsistencies._

“You need to get some sleep, pretty boy.”

Spencer sighed as he leaned back in his chair, turning tired and bloodshot eyes up at Morgan as his friend stood by his desk, and Spencer noticed the faint halo around Morgan’s head that indicated another migraine was on its way.

“...I keep thinking that if I go back over this I’ll find another clue, figure out where she’s going next…”

“And you might...” Morgan replied, reaching out a hand to squeeze Spencer’s shoulder. “...but not tonight. Go home and get some sleep.” Another squeeze before he pulled back and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Spencer nodded, climbing to his feet and pulling on his coat before moving to follow after Morgan, hoping that this wasn’t going to be another excuse for Morgan to grill him about his relationship with Delilah once they were in the car.

“So… How’s it going with your teacher?”

Spencer sighed, closing his eyes as he rested his head back against his seat. “It’s going well.”

Spencer could _feel_ Morgan’s eyes on him, though Spencer made no immediate sign of elaborating which he knew would frustrate his friend to no end.

“Come on, Reid…”

“They’re going well.” He shrugged, carefully turning his head as he opened his eyes so he could meet his friend’s gaze. “We’re… Making plans.”

“Yeah?” Morgan looked a bit more excited at that. “What sort of plans?”

“Well, I was supposed to be going with her to her brother’s place for Thanksgiving so I could meet the family, but her brother isn’t hosting now, so I think we’re going to do a small dinner at her place.”

“I like it, I like it… What else?”

Spencer blushed just a hint at that, but felt fairly confident that the interior of the car was dark enough that Morgan wouldn’t be able to see it.

“There’s this… Gala fundraiser thing that her school is throwing to help support the Arts and Music programs. She’s asked me to be her date.”

“Black tie?”

“Black tie.” He confirmed. “Know where I can rent a good tux?”

“I might know of a place or two, yeah. I’ll shoot you a couple of names later.”

“Thanks, Morgan.”

“Anytime, Reid.”

The two fell silent again as they got closer to Spencer’s apartment building, though part of that was due to the fact that Spencer had closed his eyes again against the oncoming headlights.

He felt the car slow and then stop and heard Morgan unlock the doors a moment later, though he didn’t immediately get up to get out nor did Morgan seem to be in any hurry for him to go.

“...you gonna be alright, kid?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, licking his lips as he lifted his head and opened his eyes again, squinting at the lights around him. “I’m going to go and try to get some sleep.”

“You should probably see someone about those headaches. They’re not getting any better and could get a hell of a lot worse.”

“I have an appointment with a neurologist in a couple of weeks, actually. I think most of it’s just stress, though. This case…”

Morgan nodded. “I know. It’s getting to all of us. But we’ll catch them.” He reached out to give Spencer’s shoulder another squeeze then along with a reassuring smile. “We always do in the end.”

Spencer gave a small nod of his own before thanking Morgan for the ride and climbing out of the car, making his way inside with little trouble, though he had to step carefully in the lobby as the new maintenance guy was mopping after it looked - and smelled - like someone had gotten sick.

Thankfully, the elevator ride was short and quiet and as the doors opened on the other side it was to the sight of Delilah standing outside his door with a smile.

“...there you are…” She cooed, reaching out to take his hands in hers, though her smile faltered as she took in the strained look in his eyes.

“...how bad is it, Spencer? One to ten.”

“About a six… six and a half, maybe?”

She nodded, taking his keys from him and helping him inside, her actions similar to the ones she’d used a few weeks prior when she’d ended up giving him the neck massage.

If that was on the agenda for the evening, Spencer wasn’t going to complain, though there was something about her demeanor that suggested she might’ve had something else in mind.

Spencer wasn’t really sure what it could be, and she didn’t seem to be providing any answers.

A couple of minutes later, though, and she was leading him down to his bedroom, the light once again dimmed by the towel over his lamp and he moved to take a seat while she helped him out of his shoes and vest and tie and shirt.

“Do you trust me, Spencer?” She asked as she got back to her feet, looking down at him as he gazed back up at her.

“I do.”

She nodded before lifting her hands and resting them on either side of his face, her eyes studying his for a moment before she bent down and covered his lips with her own.

Spencer sucked in a breath at the suddenness of the kiss, his hands automatically lifting to rest at her waist and while he had absolutely _no_ idea what was going on, he loved kissing this woman and wasn’t going to complain in the slightest.

The kiss lingered on for another moment or so before Delilah pulled back, reaching over to turn out the light before returning to face Spencer - there was just enough light coming from the street lamps outside filtering through the curtains that Spencer could make out her profile - and Spencer wasn’t surprised when she was encouraging him to lay back against the pillows.

He _was_ a bit surprised, however, when she moved not to sit beside him, but to straddle his waist, her hands resting on his shoulders even as she leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead.

“...Delilah…”

“I-I told you before that I was reading up on some alternative methods of pain relief for migraines.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of one eye, and then the other. “And I found something that many, _many_ people - doctors included - swear by.”

He nodded but didn’t dare speak, unwilling to break the moment as he felt her warm breath against his cheek an instant before her lips pressed to _that_ spot just next to his lips and his hands had settled on her waist again, lightly gripping as he resisted the urge to pull her closer still.

“The reason I asked if you trusted me is because i-it’s something that um… That we haven’t explored yet, Spencer.”

_Wait… What? Was she…?_

“But it’s something that I very much _want_ to explore with you.”

“Delilah…?”

“Physical pleasure - a-an orgasm - can reportedly cure a migraine instantly.”

She was still close enough that he could _feel_ her skin heat up in a blush, but maybe it helped a bit that his was heated as well.

“You-You want to have sex?”

“No no no! No! Well… _yes_ ,” She quickly corrected, “but not tonight.”

“...I’m not following you, Delilah.”

He felt her sit up, though her hands were still resting on his chest and another moment found him carefully sitting up so he could loosely wrap his arms around her, and he could feel her trembling slightly.

“Hey hey, ssssh… It’s okay…”

Her hands were resting on his shoulder and neck again, and Spencer wanted nothing more than to bury his face in the side of her neck to just breathe her in for a while.

“I just… yes, Spencer, I do want to make love with you one day,” She admitted, voice whisper-soft. “But I don’t feel like tonight is the right time. Not when you aren’t feeling well.”

“Then what _are_ you proposing?” His voice was just as soft as hers, and he was pleased to note the faint shudder that ran through her as one of his hands slid just under the hem of her shirt to caress the soft skin of her side.

Her hands had started to gently rub and massage his shoulders and his neck, and honestly Spencer would’ve been completely fine with just that if she changed her mind.

“W-well, to put it bluntly, I um… I was sort of hoping that you’d let me just… Take care of you tonight.”

_”I see you shiver with antici… Pation!” - Dr. Frank N Furter_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) ;) ;)
> 
> Hit up my [T U M B L R](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) for stuffs, including the first of the one-shots that I was asking if y'all were interested in last chapter. It's short and fluffy but I loves it.
> 
> Almost as much as I loves y'all <3


	20. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor who, apparently, just wants to make him feel good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why you all keep saying I'm a tease, but - at any rate - you're welcome ;)

_”Honesty is love.” - Andy Dunn_

_“W-well, to put it bluntly, I um… I was sort of hoping that you’d let me just… Take care of you tonight.”_

And in that moment, Spencer might’ve briefly forgotten how to breathe.

“You… You, y-y-y-you… You what?”

“I want to make you feel good...” She leaned forward in his arms to press a kiss to _that_ spot at the corner of his lips, his lips parting slightly in a faint gasp of approval. “...let me take care of you, love.”

His head was swimming a bit, but he was starting to think that maybe it wasn’t just because of the headache, and yeah he was a little pleased when he felt her shudder slightly as his fingers met the skin just under the hem of her shirt.

“W-What are you going to do?” He breathed, his nose brushing against hers and eyes sliding shut as he felt her warm breath against his cheek.

“What do you _want_ me to do?” She asked, her lips _just_ brushing against his in a touch so featherlight that it couldn’t even really be called a kiss.

“...I-I trust you.”

And maybe that was exactly what she needed to hear, because suddenly her lips were on his again, engaging him in a soft kiss that had a fair amount of heat building behind it, her hands once more in his hair as she cradled the back of his head to hold him close.

His own hands slid up her back, feeling the soft warmth of her skin beneath his and he was pleased at the feel of her lips parting, a faint whimper leaving him as her tongue teased at the seam of his lips before they parted and granted her entrance.

Another moment found them slowly starting to lay back again, one of his hands leaving her skin to brace himself so they didn’t just fall back, but as soon as his head hit the pillow he felt her shift upright again, her hands leaving him just long enough so that she could tug her shirt off and over her head.

He couldn’t make out much in the dim light, but he could feel, his hands trailing over the newly exposed skin for a moment before she brought her hands up to take a hold of his and lift them so she could press her lips to his knuckles.

“Trust me to take care of you…” She murmured before leaning forward again and it was Spencer’s turn to shudder as the skin of her abdomen met his, as her warmth started to seep into his skin and it started becoming a little more real that something was about to happen.

“Delilah…” He moaned, his back arching slightly as she suddenly pinned his hands over his head, her lips finding the soft skin just below his ear before moving lower so she could just barely nip at the pulse point in his neck.

“Relax, love.” She breathed, her hands sliding down his arms, leaving his hands behind though there was an unspoken instruction there for his hands to stay put for the time being. “Relax and remember to breathe.”

He sucked in a shaky breath at her reminder, though it left him again in a surprised gasp when he felt her teeth _just_ graze against the top of a pectoral muscle, as her tongue darted out to soothe the resulting sting and her fingers continued to wander where they would.

Spencer breathed her name again and he could just make out the sight of her lifting her head to grin up at him before her lips returned to his skin, slowly making her way across and down his torso.

Delilah made it as far as the bottom of his ribcage before she started kissing her way back up, her fingers just barely skirting up the other side, and Spencer shuddered slightly at the faintly ticklish sensation though it wasn’t _quite_ enough for him to squirm beneath her.

Even so, Delilah must’ve noticed because her fingers soon wandered back into safer territory, her hands flattening out against his chest before sliding up and into his hair again, her lips soon following as they once more engaged with his.

But this time, Spencer was ready for her, his hands coming back down from where they’d been lightly gripping his headboard to wrap around her, holding her flush against him as the kiss went on, deepened, grew more heated.

Slowly enough so that she could properly adjust, Spencer lifted his legs and bent his knees, bracing his feet a bit against the bed for better stability but the move also served to push Delilah’s legs a bit further apart as well.

A position she took full advantage of when she suddenly ground her hips down against his, both of them breaking the kiss to gasp at the electricity that shop up their spines at the movement. Delilah kept her mouth _just_ hovering over Spencer’s as she repeated the motion, and Spencer could feel his eyes roll back in his head even as his eyelids fluttered shut.

He moaned her name again, one of his hands sliding from her waist to grip at her hip, simultaneously encouraging her to keep going even as he was almost trying to hold her still.

He was aroused, and they both knew it.

“Do you trust me?” She asked again, head once more dipping so she could press her lips against his jugular before her tongue darted out for a taste and Spencer _whimpered_ at the contact.

“...implicitly.” He managed to get out, the hand not at her hip starting to slide up her back to tease the flesh just beneath the hooks for her bra, the digits practically _itching_ to relea-

Delilah pulled away again suddenly to sit up, her hands sliding back down his torso to rest against his stomach, her core now pressed against his arousal and Spencer nearly cried at the feel of that heat pressing against him even through all of those layers of clothing.

She rocked against him a handful of times before falling still again, her hands coming up and reaching back to grab at his knees as she tried to brace and balance herself, and Spencer could hear in her breathing just how much of a struggle this was becoming for her, too.

This was supposed to be about him, but he could tell just how much she was getting affected by it as well.

Promising, that.

So maybe that was why it was a bit of a shock when Delilah suddenly moved again to get on all fours over him, her body now almost completely avoiding contact with his as she hovered.

“I-I need to slow down a minute…” She clarified as if he’d asked, a hand coming up to cup his cheek. “...it’s supposed to work better if I take my time.”

Oh. Right. His migraine.

A pain went through his skull at the reminder and Spencer nodded once to let her know he understood even if he couldn’t really reply verbally all of a sudden.

With his eyes screwed up tight again, he completely missed the sight of Delilah scooting back and moving to a kneeling position at his side, though he most assuredly _didn’t_ miss when her hands once more returned to his skin, her fingers suddenly teasing at the skin of his lower abdomen, just above the buckle of his belt.

His eyes reopened at the touch, his abdomen tensing beneath her fingers as they explored, the hand closest to her reaching out to tease the skin of her own side and Spencer wished that she was just a touch closer so he could wrap his arm around her and pull her back down to him.

He was distracted, however, by the feel and sound of her starting to carefully undo his belt, her movements slow but sure and it was clear that she was trying not to do anything that might hurt him as she unbuttoned and then carefully unzipped his trousers.

“Lift your hips for me.” She murmured and Spencer knew he couldn’t do anything but obey.

He could make out the shape of her moving in the dark as she carefully tugged his trousers down his legs, as she pulled his socks off as well, and Spencer had to wonder just where exactly she was flinging all of this and from where he’d have to pull them from later.

But then her lips were on his right calf, and he sort of forgot how to think for a moment.

“...breathe…” She gently reminded him as she started kissing her way up his leg, switching sides every few inches to make sure that the left leg got the same amount of attention.

She was getting close, so very _very_ close to where he most desperately wanted her to be, her hands braced on either side of his hips as she kissed her way closer and Spencer felt his eyes flutter shut again with a moan as her lips jumped over the fabric of his underwear to land on a hipbone.

“Keep breathing for me.” She encouraged, and he felt her shift to kneel between his legs as her hands settled again on his hips, toying with the elastic waistband of his boxers before she slowly started to pull them down and down and down and down, helping him get his legs out of the fabric before tossing it aside as well.

And just like that, he was completely bare before her.

“I wish I could turn the light on so I could admire you properly.” She murmured, her hands returning to his hips for a moment before she-

“Delilah!”

“Ssh, ssh, ssh…” She soothed, the fingers that had just started tracing up the thick vein on the underside of his length slowly wrapping around it in a grip that was a shade off of being perfectly tight.

She gave his cock an experimental stroke then, clearly testing the length and girth and weight of it - Spencer was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven - repeating the gesture before she did something else that surprised him.

She took his hand with her free one and brought it closer, encouraging him to wrap his fingers around hers where they were wrapped around _him_.

“...show me what you like.”

He could feel his cheeks heat up in a blush - or was it a flush? - and maybe he was a touch thankful that it _was_ dark in the room because it meant she couldn’t see the hint of hesitation in his eyes.

Spencer Reid wasn’t a virgin, but this was something he’d most assuredly never done before.

But it was Delilah, and he trusted her. More than that even…

It took a moment to figure out, but soon enough he’d adjusted her grip to something that was far better than anything he’d ever achieved on his own and he was moving their hands through the first few strokes, helping her learn the movement that worked for him.

His hand fell away another moment later because “Mmmm… Delilah! Yes!”, dropping to fist in the sheets beneath him as he felt his hips roll slightly with the motions of her hand.

Now that she knew the basic stroke for him, though, it seemed like Delilah was going to start experimenting a bit, occasionally twisting her wrist with the upward strokes but it was when her second hand came in to play that Spencer knew he was a goner.

It started when he felt a finger lightly trace the slit, gathering some of the precum that had leaked so she could use it as lubricant, further aiding the motions of her hand now that she’d gotten into a good rhythm.

But then it was the feel of those fingers lightly teasing along his testicles before carefully gripping them, giving them the most perfect of massages even as she continued to stroke that had Spencer tensing and reaching for the headboard again.

His head was pounding again, but not just from the migraine and while he wasn’t quite desperate yet, he knew he would be soon.

He moaned her name again and was rewarded with a slightly firmer stroke, her hand working just a little bit faster then as it slid up and down his cock and Spencer was aware of nothing in that moment except the motions of her hands-

-and the sudden inexplicably perfect feeling of her lips wrapping around the head, a deliciously wet heat slowly taking him in and making his back arch even further and he had to fight the urge to buck his hips up towards that heat in the search for more.

Moaning her name again, he felt her hum a low moan of pleasure, the sensation shooting right through him and straight up his spine as she somehow managed to find the perfect rhythm of lips, tongue and hands and he was close, so so so so close and he wanted this to last but he wanted to meet that crest and-

She clearly knew he was was close because she was doing everything to maintain her rhythm and he wanted to warn her, but all that came out was a strangled utterance of her name before he was tumbling over the edge of ecstasy, a white-hot heat shooting up his spine as he spilled his release into her mouth.

Delilah didn’t seem to mind though, as she kept her lips locked around him throughout, her hands slowing down in their ministrations, though as Spencer started to come back down from his high he felt her give him a final long, slow, _firm_ stroke, as if to coax anything that remained out of him, and she gave a kiss to the head as she pulled back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Spencer was boneless, warm, sated, and yet somehow he found the energy to lift his arms and wrap them around her as she came close again, curling up against him as he turned on his side to face her, though she gave a small squeak of surprise when his lips crashed into hers, their legs tangling together and his hand sliding up into her hair to keep her close as the kiss lingered on.

“...I love you…” He broke the kiss to murmur, pressing his forehead against hers and he marveled at the fact that the pain and pressure in his head was gone, that all he could feel was her and her warmth.

“Spencer, I-”

“I do.” He kept going, his hold on her tightening a fraction and _God_ if he didn’t want to cover every inch of her skin with kisses… “I do, Delilah, and not just because of what just happened.”

He felt a hint of tenseness leave her at that and he kept going, needing to say the words as much as he suspected she needed to hear them.

“I’m in love with you, Delilah Jacobs, and I’ve _been_ in love with you for so, _so_ long now, and I’ve wanted to tell you but-”

“I love you, too.” She interrupted, lifting a hand to cup his cheek before shifting to once more brush her lips against his and something fluttered in his chest at the contact, the fluttering increasing when a moment later the kiss deepened again into a languid makeout session.

It might’ve been slightly strange that he could still taste a hint of himself on her tongue, but more than anything he could taste _her_ and _oh_ but he wanted to taste more of her.

Wanted to taste all of her.

Delilah wasn’t stopping him this time as his hand slid up her spine to deftly undo the hooks of her bra, though she did seem a touch bashful as he helped her shimmy out of the garment before it was tossed aside to join the slew of garments already scattered about his bedroom.

“...you okay?” He breathed, a hand resting on her ribcage, waiting for permission to slide higher.

“Yeah…” She nodded, and he was close enough that he could feel her face heat up in a blush. “...this is just the part where things start getting a little more difficult.”

Spencer frowned at that. “How do you mean? Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” As if to emphasize her point, she reached down and took him by the wrist, sliding his hand up the rest of the way to cup her breast, but Spencer didn’t take the pleasure he wanted to out of that moment.

“...Delilah…”

“It’s okay, really.”

But something in her voice said otherwise, and the moment was quickly losing steam for Spencer.

“...talk to me.” He murmured, brushing his lips against her cheek and once more returning his hands to safer places. “Please.”

It still took a long couple of moments before Delilah tried to reply, and Spencer could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she struggled to find the words she needed to explain what was going on.

“Sex… Doesn’t work normally for me.” She finally settled on and while the statement only confused Spencer further, he shifted to brush his lips against her forehead and let his hands gently rub her back in what he hoped were soothing circles as he encouraged her to continue.

“Doesn’t work normally in what way?”

She sighed. “It just… I’m _good_ with the pleasuring my partner bit.” He could feel her blush again but they both knew she was right. “It’s the _being pleasured_ bit that doesn’t go right.”

Spencer could feel himself frown, his fingers pausing as they traced over the hint of a vertebra before continuing until he could flatten his palm out against her shoulder blade. “What doesn’t go right about it?”

“It just... “ She was still struggling to find her words, trying to choose them carefully, trying not to offend and-

“You can say it, Delilah. Whatever it is, I won’t hold it against you.” He pressed another kiss to her skin, this time just to the corner of her eye. “It’s not going to scare me away.”

He heard her take a steeling breath before she finally let it out. “Sex hurts for me.” A beat. “It always has, no matter what I try.”

“It hurts?” He felt her nod even as she buried her face against his chest. “...will you walk me through it?”

She muttered what sounded like a ‘fuck’ under her breath and it was clear that she was a bit embarrassed, but they both knew that this conversation needed to be had.

“I can be aroused. Arousal is… Usually fairly easy.” Her voice sounded muffled because she was still hiding her face in his chest, but the room was quiet enough that Spencer could hear her regardless. “Even o-oral sex can feel good, but I’ve never been able to climax that way.”

And still, Spencer remained quiet and let her go on.

“But penetration is… Difficult. I-It’s like, no matter how aroused I am it _always_ hurts.” There was a faint sob in her voice and Spencer tightened his hold on her a fraction, his fingers starting to once more trace up and down her spine in languid circles.

“Even when it doesn’t hurt, intercourse just doesn’t feel _good_ to me, no matter how much I want it to, so I end up just sort of laying there and faking it while I take it because I wanted it and it’s not fair to my partner that I-”

“First of all…” Spencer quietly interrupted. “...any partner worth his salt should be able to tell that you suddenly weren’t enjoying it. If he doesn’t, you have every right to say stop and tell him that it hurts, even when you both know he didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He could feel her about to say something in response, but didn’t give her a chance, instead pressing forward with his question before he lost his train of thought.

“And second of all, what about when you’re by yourself?”

He felt her pull back and lift her head to look at him, the question clearly not being one that she’d expected.

“I-I… what?”

“What about when you’re by yourself?” He asked again, his tone soothing for all that it was also coaxing. “Are you able to orgasm when you’re by yourself?”

Her whole body was heating up in a blush/flush but she nodded all the same. “Y-Yes, but it can take a while.”

Orgasm was possible. He could work with that, and Spencer Reid knew a thing or two about patience.

“...can I ask you something else, Delilah?” He waited until she agreed before asking: “Why didn’t you want to tell me about this a little bit ago?”

She ducked her head again, this time clearly out of embarrassment and Spencer actually couldn’t quite catch what she mumbled this time.

“...I didn’t quite catch that…”

“I said-” She enunciated a bit more, though Spencer could hear the tears in her voice. “-because I was hoping it would be different with you.”

“And hopefully it will be.” He murmured, taking her chin in hand so he could gently tilt her head up until he could capture her lips with his in the tenderst of kisses. “But just doing it isn’t going to be good for either of us.”

She nodded in understanding, encouragement enough for him to keep going.

“I want it to be everything you’ve ever wanted sex to be.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the spot next to her lips that she seemed to favor on his face. “I want to make your toes curl because they have no other option.”

“...Spencer…”

He started punctuating what he was saying with tiny little kisses spread along her jawline and then down her neck. “I want to know what every,” _kiss_ “single,” _kiss kiss_ “inch of you tastes like. I want to know,” _tiny lick against the jugular_ “what makes your heart rate skyrocket. I want to know,” _a kiss to her collarbone followed by the gentlest of bites_ “everything I need to do,” _a swipe of his tongue to soothe the sting from his bite_ “to make you feel like the most treasured and desired woman on the planet.”

He pulled back then, his nose brushing against hers as his lips once more hovered over hers.

“Because you _are_ , Delilah Jacobs.” He breathed, grinning a touch to himself at the feel of her shuddering in his arms at his words. “And soon I’m going to prove it to you.”

He sealed those words with a kiss, a kiss filled with longing and need and desire.

A kiss filled, most importantly of all, with love.

_”Oh, let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone/Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon/Show me slowly what I only know the limits of/Dance me to the end of love/Dance me to the end of love” - Leonard Cohen_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, to be perfectly honest I struggled a bit with parts of this chapter, namely the ending conversation. I know we all want to believe that fanfic sex is always perfect and wonderful, but I've done what I could to maintain realism throughout this story and thought it would be a disservice to the characters if I _didn't_ include it.  
>  I wanted them to be able to talk openly about these sorts of things, especially considering future chapters. Being open and honest with partners is _always_ crucial and - in my opinion - leads to overall more pleasurable things.  
>  That being said, Delilah will get hers soon enough, I promise ;)


	21. Hands?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor; apparently she's quite the cuddler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I just posted chapter 20 yesterday, but it's the Season of Giving and y'all are amazing and I love you dearly so Happy Christmahanakwanzika! Largely plot-heavy chapter, but we're advancing pretty quickly from here on out.

_”A kiss is a secret told to the mouth instead of the ear; kisses are the messengers of love and tenderness.” - Ingrid Bergman_

After that final promising kiss, the two of them settled in to sleep, arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled together.

At some point in the night, Spencer had gotten up to use the bathroom and had slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms to combat the cold, though he was pleased to note the next morning as he started to wake up that both he and Delilah were still bare from the waist up.

There was a bit more light in the room now, after all, and Spencer could openly admire the flesh that he’d only been able to touch the night before.

Delilah, he decided, was perfection.

But he merely looked, one hand still resting at her waist while the other was keeping his head propped up as he watched her sleep. As tempting as it was to let his fingers explore, she was sleeping and hadn’t given permission.

Plus, he was content enough to watch the subtle fluttering of her eyelashes as her eyes darted back and forth beneath her lids, to admire the way the first rays of sunlight made the wild curls on her head shine, to notice the way her nostrils flared just a hint as she sucked in a breath as she started to awaken…

“...morning…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead in greeting.

She made a little noise of protest before burying herself further into his arms, her surprisingly-cold nose pressing against the center of his chest.

“...time is it?”

“Early. Around six thirty.” She made another cute little noise at that and Spencer couldn’t help the faint chuckle as he dropped another kiss to the top of her head.

“...why’r’you awake?”

“I wanted to watch you sleep.”

She muttered a ‘kay’ before burying against him further, and Spencer was perfectly content to let her sleep there for as long as she wanted. It was a Saturday and he had no plans of immediately going anywhere.

And then his phone started quietly buzzing on the nightstand.

“Noooo…” Delilah whined, trying to move to block him from picking up the offending object, but his reach was longer and he _was_ a bit more awake, but he did at least excuse himself before he answered the phone, hoping she wouldn’t get out of his bed just yet.

He liked seeing her there, after all.

“This is Spencer.”

“Reid, it’s Hotch. We’ve caught another break in the case. Morgan is on his way to pick you up. Should be there in twenty-”

Reid barely managed to contain his swear at the news, immediately starting to scramble even as he started gathering up clothes so he could hopefully get a quick shower.

“I understand. I’ll um…” Was that one of his socks hanging from the ceiling fan? “I’ll be ready when he gets here.”

“He’ll give you a quick overview, but we’ll go into the full briefing once you’re both here.”

“Understood. See you soon.”

He didn’t hold back the swear as he hung up the phone, immediately starting to scramble again, but another moment found him pausing because there was a pair of neatly-manicured feet approaching, and he looked up at her from where he was kneeling to pick up his pants from where they’d been tossed on the floor.

“...do you really have to go?” She looked a bit lost standing there, wrapped up in the spare blanket she’d pulled from off his bed and he nodded even as he pushed himself to his feet and moved to wrap his arms around her.

“Hotch says we caught a big break in the case and Morgan is swinging by to pick me up on his way in and I’ve got to get a shower.”

She pouted at that, but nodded in understanding, pushing herself up (rather unnecessarily) onto her tiptoes so she could press a gentle kiss to Spencer’s lips.

“I’ll get the coffee going for you before I leave.”

“You… You don’t have to go, Delilah.”

“If I stay, I might end up joining you in the shower, love.” She took a step back to start looking around his room for her own discarded pieces of clothing. “And we both know that might take too long.”

He nodded his understanding and while he really should’ve already been in the shower, he took a quick moment to pull her close again, wrapping one arm around her while his free hand slid once more into her hair to cradle the back of her head as he kissed her the way he’d wanted to before his phone rang.

“I love you, Delilah.” He breathed as he broke the kiss a long minute later, keeping his hand in her hair for a fraction of a moment longer than he should have, but damn it if he didn’t love the feel of those curls tangling around his fingers.

“I love you, too, Spencer.” She replied, brushing her nose against his before planting a much shorter kiss on his lips. “But you need to get ready for work.” Another kiss, this time to the end of his nose.

“Go be Superman.” She murmured as she stepped away from him. “Call me when you can, okay?”

“I promise.”

There was a note left by the coffee pot when he got out of the shower, a simple heart with her name scribbled beneath it lying next to the to-go cup she’d pulled down out of the cabinet for him as well.

He carefully folded it and put it in his pocket, wanting to keep the feeling close to help him get through the day.

~+~+~+~

Morgan told him what he knew in the car - that they’d potentially tracked down the man that had taken Jessica Jackson out on that ill-fated date - but apparently that was all Hotch had told him, so Spencer sat back in his seat, carefully sipping on his cup of coffee as they maneuvered through traffic.

Surprisingly, Morgan didn’t ask any questions about Delilah, though perhaps he didn’t have to. Spencer well-knew that he looked like a man in love.

“Well, _someone_ got some sleep last night.” JJ quietly teased as she bumped into him at the coffee station where he was making himself a second cup and Spencer couldn’t entirely help the faint blush that warmed his cheeks at the teasing.

“...sleep is the best cure for a migraine, JJ.” He countered, hoping she would leave it at that.

“Yeah, but it’s not the most fun one, is it?” She winked before immediately turning away, not exactly giving him the chance to form a rebuttal.

Not that he had one anyway. Was it that obvious?

By the time they’d all settled in the conference room, Garcia had updated their tablets and had pulled up some notes on the screen, quickly launching into her overview at a prompting from Hotch while they all read over the notes for themselves.

“Everyone, meet Jesse Sampson, age thirty seven.”

_Same initials and overall background as Jeremiah Siler. They were both altar boys, both unmarried, both struggled with holding down steady employment. Loners, but always quick to try and please._

“After doing some cross-referencing,” Garcia was telling them. “I found that Jesse Sampson once worked at the very restaurant that he took Jessica Jackson to and he was part of the overnight crew that stayed and hung out when the security cameras were initially installed.”

“So he knew _exactly_ where those cameras were located and where they were going to be pointed.” Morgan concluded.

“And since he used to work there and knew the staff, they wouldn’t question which table he’d want to sit at.” Emily agreed, leaning back in her chair.

“Here’s what I don’t understand.” Rossi countered, clearly wanting to play Devil’s Advocate. “Our Unsub knows that we’re looking into all of her victims and that we’re going to be on the lookout for a slip like this. Just because he knew where the cameras were doesn’t mean he was going to be able to avoid them completely. Surely she knew that?”

“Garcia,” Hotch piped up. “Do we have an address for Sampson?”

“Yessir. I just sent it to your tablets.”

“Good. Rossi, you and Morgan with me. I want to check out the address, see if it’s really his and if we can get any further information from it.”

~+~+~+~

They got the call just shy of thirty minutes later, instructing the rest of the team to come join them.

Jesse Sampson seemed to have met the same fate as Jeremiah Siler, a note from his Dom simply signed ‘Yours’ and all.

What was different this time, however, was that Jesse’s hands were posed the same way as TTK’s victims.

“She was here.” Rossi concluded. “She was here and she watched him kill himself and then she posed his hands so we’d _know_ she was here.”

“CSI is already on the way.” Hotch murmured. “Reid? I’d like you to stay here with them and with Prentiss. See if you all can find anything else that might be of assistance to us.”

~+~+~+~

_Not only had the unsub been there, but by all accounts it looked like it had been a rather romantic evening before she’d instructed Jesse to kill himself._

_Two glasses of wine - one of them carefully untouched - two places set at the table, the receipt for a local Italian place left sitting on the counter top…_

“...where are the leftovers?” Reid asked, tilting his head to look at the receipt since CSI hadn’t photographed it yet.

“What do you mean?” Emily asked.

“There’s a receipt here dated for last night from an Italian place a couple blocks away, but the plates on the table are clean and CSI said there’s no sign of food in the trash can or in the fridge. There aren’t even any take-away containers.”

“So she took the food with her.” A tech was photographing the receipt, but Emily carefully looked it over before she bagged it. “At thirty bucks a plate, I would’ve, too.”

“They paid cash.” Spencer commented. “Means one of them would’ve had to stay at the door for a slightly longer transaction.”

“Feel like Italian for lunch?” Emily offered.

Another twenty minutes - and a quick call to Hotch to keep him in the loop - found them at the restaurant in question and it wasn’t long before they were talking to the owner and the young man who had done the delivery the night before.

“Sure, I remember the place.” The young man - a boy named Mark - supplied. “I deliver there a couple of times a month.”

“You do?” Emily asked, further prompting him.

“Sure. Jesse and his old lady. I’m sorry I don’t know her name. Real pretty though.”

Emily and Spencer shared a look. Surely they couldn’t have just gotten _that_ lucky.

“Can you tell us a bit more about her?” Spencer pressed.

“I’ve only seen her a couple of times - it’s always Jesse who answers the door - but sometimes I’ve seen her over his shoulder. She’s got dark brown hair, real curly. Kinda average height, but from what I could tell she’s in good shape.”

Mark paused for a second, tilting his head to the side as he thought about her. “She’s always got a good tan. Like, she’s either faking it or she gets to go to tropical locations a lot, you know what I mean?”

Emily nodded but Spencer wasn’t quite following. He figured Emily would explain it to him later.

“It’s her eyes though, that I think I remember most.” Suddenly Mark didn’t look quite as comfortable with what he was saying. “Ice blue. Bigger than they should be. I remember I locked eyes with her once, just to say hi when I said I hoped they enjoyed their meal.”

He shuddered. “I’d never really believed in people having kind or crazy or warm eyes, but this lady? Pssh. She had _cruel_ eyes. She was smiling, but it wasn’t a _good_ smile you know?”

They both nodded and Spencer quietly asked if there was anything else Mark could remember, particularly about the night before.

“Yeah, actually, now that you mention it.” He was carefully nodding again. “Jesse came to the door and was paying like he usually did, and I saw her walking around behind him. And I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but she was putting gloves on. Like she was getting ready to leave or something. That’s kinda weird right? Like… Their food just got there, why would she be leaving?”

It was a bit odd, but it explained why CSI hadn’t found any fingerprints except Jesse’s yet.

“She already had her left glove on and was putting on the right… and her hand looked _weird_.”

“Weird how?” Emily again.

“Like… It was _really_ red. I only caught a glimpse of it, but I remember that it just didn’t look like a healthy hand, if that makes sense?”

“You’ve been _extremely_ helpful.” Emily thanked him before handing over a card, telling him to give them a call if he thought of anything else.

“What do you think it means?” Emily asked as they got back into their SUV.

“I think it means there’s even more significance to what she does to her victims’ hands than we originally thought.”

_”By putting forward the hands of the clock you shall not advance the hour.” - Victor Hugo._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another reason for posting this chapter already is because I want to post chapter 22 in time for Christmas. Chapter 22 is um... All about Delilah ;)


	22. Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor. Apparently she's going to get hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Three chapters in three days seems like a lot, but it's the Season of Giving, and my gift to you all is this chapter. I might not get another update in until this weekend, and I didn't want to make you all wait that long for this one... ;)

_”I think laughter and stimulating conversation are the things that truly make a romantic evening.” - Michael Buble_

_The hands have to have even more significance than we thought…_ Spencer was thinking to himself on the elevator ride up to his floor that evening, arms crossed over his chest and brow furrowed as he ran through a list of potential reasons.

_Burns? Mark had said her hand was red…_

“Hello…” He muttered to the woman standing in the hallway as the doors opened and he made his way towards his apartment, key already in hand though he froze for a split second before turning back around towards the woman.

“...D-Delilah??”

“Good evening to you, too, Spencer.” She teased, but he was too busy studying her to really contemplate that she was speaking.

“...y-your hair…”

“Do you like it?”

Instead of the usual tight ringlets that Spencer had developed a bit of an infatuation for, Delilah’s hair was instead falling in long, languid waves down her back, the ends just barely curled under where they hit at about the middle of her back.

“W-what did you do-?!”

“It’s not permanent.” She reassured, taking a step closer to him, reaching out for one of his hands and lifting it to her head so he could feel for himself. “I just got a haircut, and the stylist offered to blow it dry and straighten it for me since it’s so cold out.”

Spencer was completely memorized, his fingers sliding through her hair with an ease he hadn’t thought possible, the strands passing through the gaps in his loose hold like silk.

“It’s beautiful…” He murmured as he met her gaze with a soft grin. “...but I’m glad it’s not permanent. I adore your curls.”

“I’ve figured that much out.” Her tone was still teasing, as was the gentle smile that was tugging at her own lips. “It’ll be like this until I wash it again though. Should hit right around my collarbones once it’s back to its natural state.”

Spencer was half-tempted to ask if they could go wash it right away, but maybe for a day or two he could love the dark silk as well.

Though, suddenly the idea of washing her hair for her was stuck in his head and he really wasn’t sure if he ever wanted it to go away.

Apparently she’d been speaking while he was thinking about that washing, however, because she was looking at him rather expectedly and Spencer couldn’t exactly stop the blush that spread across his cheeks.

“...sorry, what was that?”

“Where were you just now?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you wanted to come over for dinner or if you were going to have an early start again tomorrow?”

“No, I um… I think the plan was for all of us to have a day off tomorrow since we didn’t really get today.” He clarified. “I’d love to stay for dinner.”

Suddenly, she was blushing but Spencer didn’t exactly understand why, but he followed her into her apartment all the same.

Oh.

Apparently, she’d been planning on him saying yes, because she’d set the table for two with a candle in the middle, the lights low and there was some soft jazz playing in the background.

It also appeared that she’d started her Christmas decorating already.

“Thanksgiving was literally two days ago...” He teased, carefully undoing his coat and hanging it up on a hook by the door even as he set his bag down off to the side.

“Pssh.” She idly waved her hand at him as if to dismiss such poppycock, though quietly Spencer was wondering what he had to do to convince her to keep these softer lights up year round. They were dim enough to not bother his eyes, but they also made her hair _shine_.

“I love Christmas. We’ve discussed this.” They had, but he didn’t realize she loved it quite this much.

“You don’t have a tree up yet though?”

She was pulling something out of the oven - it looked and smelled like lasagna - carefully setting it down on the stovetop before responding.

“About that… I was wondering if maybe um…” She was blushing again and Spencer came close enough to gently take her elbow in his hand, wanting to be as close to her as he could be.

“Wondering what?”

“...I was wondering if perhaps you’d want to go tree picking with me tomorrow?” Her blush deepened but there was so much hope in her eyes that he wouldn’t’ve denied her even if he had to.

“Well, I _do_ have the day off-”

There was a joyous little squeal at that and suddenly he had an armful of girlfriend, his feet shuffling slightly as he regained his footing before he wrapped his arms around her in kind and squeezed her tight.

It took a second for it to dawn on him that he was actually holding her up off the ground, that technically she was grinning _down_ at him, though it seemed to dawn on her at exactly the same time and he felt a faint shudder run down him as he carefully let her slide back down to her feet.

And just like that, there was a bit more heat between them, and Spencer was thinking about things that he’d also been thinking about the night before.

If the way her pupils were dilated slightly were any indication, it would seem she was thinking about it, too.

“W-We should eat…” She breathed. “...don’t want this to go cold.”

_We could always heat it back up._ He very much wanted to tell her, but he nodded instead, pulling back with a hard swallow before helping her dish up their plates and moving to take a seat at the table.

Dinner conversation was light, easy despite the still palpable heat between them, with the talk mostly centered around their upcoming tree hunting and then the Gala that Delilah was taking him to the following weekend.

She was teasing him about having to rent a tux, but he was curious about what color dress she was going to be wearing.

“It’ll be a surprise.” She winked.

“So, you’re saying you don’t want me in a matching tie and cumberbund?” He was joking, of course, but the look of horror on her face was worth the seriousness with which he’d asked the question.

“Absolutely not! We’re not going to _prom_ Spencer!”

He couldn’t hold back his responding laugh, and a moment later Delilah was rolling her eyes even as she playfully threw her napkin at him.

He was still smiling, but some of the laughter died down as he looked back across the table at her, as he took in her smile and the twinkle in her eyes and once again noted the shine of her hair and he felt his heart skip a beat for not the first time that evening as he got to his feet and held his hand out to her in a silent request for a dance.

Etta James this time. Appropriate.

It was easier this time, he found, easier to fit her body against his as they carefully swayed around her living room, easier for his hand to rest at the small of her back and even easier for him to press his cheek against hers as Etta belted out about wanting a Sunday kind of love to them.

Maybe that’s why it was easier when Delilah pulled back to tilt her head up and gaze into his eyes for him to close the distance between them again, easier to fit his mouth over hers and easier than anything he’d ever done before to lift her into his arms and hold her close as he carried her the short distance to her couch.

She breathed his name with the sort of reverence he’d read about but had never heard before and he dropped to his knees before her, her legs on either side of his hips as he helped her get settled and her hands were suddenly cradling his face as they locked gazes and his hands slowly slid up her legs to gently grip her hips.

She gently breathed his name again just before he once more closed the distance between them, this time the kiss positively _igniting_ from the heat that had been building between them all evening and Spencer could feel himself getting drunk from the taste of her lips.

One of his hands slowly slid up her side, just barely ghosting across the clothed outside of her breast before it slid up her neck and into her hair to cradle the back of her head as he broke the kiss, grinning a touch to himself at the gasp his actions produced from her when his lips started to trail along her jawline and then to her neck.

He was going to take his time learning her, learning what she liked, and it started with a swipe of his tongue across the pulse point in her neck before he gently sucked, pressing a kiss there before repeating the gesture on the other side.

Her fingers were in his hair, holding him in place, so clearly she approved.

“Tell me to stop if it’s too much…” He breathed, feeling her nod in agreement before he proceeded, his free hand leaving her hip to start working on unbuttoning her shirt and he was about halfway done when he pulled back to watch his handiwork, his gaze loving and appreciative as he finished and pulled the garment back to reveal her to him.

“You’re beautiful…” He breathed, fingers just barely tracing across her flushed skin, and he was pleased to note the way she arched into the touch and gasped as his fingers brushed over the cup of her bra.

“...absolutely breathtaking, Delilah…” Her eyes were closed so she didn’t see him dip his head to press his lips against her sternum, but he heard her gasp again and she was rewarded with the faintest brush of his teeth against the top of her right breast.

“I-I want out of my shirt.” She gasped, trying to gently tug on his hair to pull him back so she could strip, but Spencer held his place, grinning at the whimper that left her as he first sucked on her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra before letting out a cool breath of air against it.

“Patience, love.” He cooed, lifting his hand to pull down the fabric and expose her to his hungry gaze, loving the sight and feel of her squirming beneath him as his mouth gently sucked on the puckered flesh for the first time.

“ _Fuck_ , Spencer!” She moaned, arching into him further as his hand came up to tease her other breast and really, Spencer was sure that he’d never heard anything sweeter than that moan.

“Not tonight.” He replied, releasing her nipple with a faint pop before turning to pay her other breast the same attentions, though another moment found him kissing and licking his way down her abdomen with his hands sliding and caressing and teasing where they could.

She was looking at him pleadingly when he lifted his head after licking around her belly button, and he was thinking about their conversation the night before.

Yes, Delilah could certainly be aroused.

“Tonight…” He breathed, keeping his eyes locked with hers even as he once more kissed her abdomen, as his hands started deftly undoing the button and the zip on her trousers. “...I’m going to hopefully do what no other man has ever done to you before.”

What hopefully no other man would ever do to her after, either.

She once again nodded her consent, but she was chewing on her lower lip as he started to ease the fabric of her jeans off her hips and down her legs, but Spencer kept his gaze locked with hers, letting her see how much he wanted her, how much he wanted to _please_ her.

“Breathe, love.” He cooed, his fingers tracing along the space where hip met thigh for a minute before they dipped to trace along the inside of her legs, so close to the heat he could feel coming from her core, but he had a ways to go yet before he went there.

Instead, he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder, keeping his eyes locked with hers as he kissed the inside of her ankle, his fingers still tracing those tantalizing designs across her flesh as he started kissing his way north, but he made it as far as the inside of her knee before he pulled back to start the process over again on her other leg.

Somewhere in the middle of all of that, Delilah had grown inpatient and had peeled off her shirt and cast aside her bra, leaving her in just the black cotton of her panties and Spencer kept having to remind himself that tonight was just about her.

Making it to the inside of the other knee, he pulled back again, shifting to once more hover over her as his hands settled at her waist, and he felt her hands slide up his back to grip at his shoulders as his lips reconnected with hers.

“I love kissing you.” He murmured at one point, his hand sliding around to press up against the small of her back, and he was rewarded with her lazily wrapping one of her legs around his waist, with her back arching up against his and yeah, maybe it was a little unfair that he was still fully clothed, but nothing was going to distract him from his mission that evening.

Her hands were still in his hair, her tongue licking at his lower lip though she whimpered again when he suddenly let his fingers dance across her lower abdomen, teasing the flesh just above the waistband of her panties, but he gladly swallowed her moans as he pressed his lips against hers and _just_ let a single digit slide beneath that waistband.

“...please…” She moaned, and there was something new in her voice that Spencer hadn’t heard before. It was something she’d been trying to fake the previous evening, but something she didn’t have to fake now.

Need. _Desire_ , far, far more complex than any arousal she’d experienced before.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He murmured again before once more recapturing her lips and sliding his hand the rest of the way down the front of her panties to cup her sex for the first time, his middle finger applying just enough pressure to push past the seam of her lips and dip into the wet heat collecting there.

She broke the kiss again to drop her head back against the back of the couch, and Spencer took the opportunity to return his lips to her neck as his finger gently slid through her slick, gathering moisture before coming up to circle the little bundle of nerves at the top in the softest of caresses.

She swore again, hips shifting so she could spread her legs a bit wider for him, giving him better access, but Spencer was content with their current positions, just as he was content to take his time with the slow, methodical circles his finger was drawing around her clit.

He might’ve snuck in reading a few medical journals about women who experience pain during sex while eating lunch that day and was looking out for any signs of discomfort from his partner as he slid his finger down to trace around her opening, lifting his head from her neck to study her face as he slowly pushed just the tip of that long digit inside.

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his as she gasped for air, but she wasn’t protesting, her desire-darkened eyes pleading for more and so Spencer slowly started to thrust the digit in and out of her, going a little bit deeper each time as he helped her grow acclimated to the sensation.

He didn’t have as much room to work in though considering her panties were still in place, and Delilah seemed to have the same thought because she suddenly shifted, bracing her feet on the coffee table long enough to lift her hips so Spencer could pull the fabric aside, though he stopped her from closing her thighs and thus prevent him from admiring her properly for the first time.

His hands had settled on the insides of her thighs again, holding her open for his gaze, his fingers leaving a faint smear on her flesh as they traced their way back to her core and this time he couldn’t tear his gaze away as he once more slowly slid his finger inside of her, his thumb now able to brush over her clit since he had more room to work.

Delilah had one hand over her mouth to muffle her moans, the other gripping the back of the couch as she watched him, and as mezmorized as Spencer was by the sight of her flesh, he still lifted his eyes to check on her as he carefully added a second finger.

She winced and he froze, unsure what to do other than to pull his fingers back out and rest them once more against her thigh as he murmured her name.

“I-I’m okay.” She breathed, reaching out her hand to caress his cheek and he couldn’t resist the urge to push closer again to once more capture her lips.

“Try again,” She breathed a moment later, keeping her lips close to his. “Just go slow.”

He nodded and kissed her again as he once more slid a finger inside of her, letting her body get used to that again before he carefully started to re-add the second.

She whimpered, but told him to keep going and it took a long moment before she was trembling in his arms again, and it most assuredly wasn’t because of pain, her back once again arching as he brushed his thumb over her clit.

“Spencer…” She whimpered, turning her head to bury it against her arm as he gently began to thrust his fingers in and out of her, taking his time as he figured out which angle was best for her and when was it okay to rub his thumb over her clit as well and why did she make _that_ noise when he did **this**.

“...do that again.” She pleaded, and it took him a second to realize what she meant, but he curled his fingers inside of her again all the same, realizing that the noise she made came from when he brushed his fingers against a particular spot inside of her.

She gasped, her hips moving a touch as he carefully rubbed, his thumb now moving in tandem over her clit and Spencer could do nothing but admire the way her skin was starting to glisten in the lower lighting of her apartment.

Another reason to keep the Christmas lights up year round, he noted to himself.

But Spencer wanted to give her more than just his fingers, and it was with that in mind that he leaned forward and started to kiss and lick his way back down her body, using his free hand to lift her legs over his shoulders before removing his thumb from her clit.

Any protest she might’ve been attempting to make died in the gutteral sounds she made instead as his lips closed over the tiny bundle of nerves, as he gently suckled on it and as his fingers continued to work in and out of her.

Her fingers suddenly dug into his hair, pulling him in closer as she sought out more, and Spencer chuckled even as he gave into her, using his lips and his tongue on her clit before he took the biggest risk of all and every-so-carefully added in a third finger.

But there was no protest from Delilah, only a faint pleading noise that sounded something like ‘more’ her hips now rolling effortlessly as he coaxed her higher, as he rubbed that spot within her and continued with the kisses and licks and made a point to not stop now that he’d clearly found what it was that she needed.

She had a hand back over her mouth again, the other clutching at his hair, but the hand did little to muffle her cry of ecstasy as she came apart around him, her legs tightening around his shoulders and her inner walls suddenly tightening in little rhythmic bursts around his fingers.

Spencer continued to suck and thrust, but he slowed and eased his touches as she started to come down, not wanting to overstimulate her and risk crossing the pleasure/pain line that she already so often walked.

So, it was as she started to relax again that he finally eased, withdrawing his fingers from her body but it took him a moment longer before he was able to pull his mouth away with a final lick and kiss, resting his cheek on her thigh as he gazed adoringly up at her.

He _really_ wanted to lick his fingers clean - almost as much as he wanted to turn his head back down and lick _her_ clean - but he was stopped by the feel of her fingers tracing his cheek, cupping his chin as she attempted to tug him up closer to her again and he gave in, pushing himself back up and giving in to her desire, kissing her until he was almost as breathless as her.

“You really are a genius, aren’t you?” She murmured against his lips when the kiss finally broke and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up in a blush even as she giggled and pressed her lips to his temple.

“And you’re even more beautiful in the throes of ecstasy than I had imagined.”

It was her turn to blush. “Y-You’ve thought about me? Like _that_?”

“Of course I have.” He dipped his head to press another kiss to the side of her neck, feeling her shift to curl up against him and he wrapped his arms around her to pull her close and share his warmth with her as he curled up on the couch cushion next to her, though another moment found him tugging the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap them both up in that as well.

“I think about you in a lot of different ways, but yeah…” He dropped a kiss to the top of her shoulder, smiling as he heard her sigh contentedly. “...I think about pleasuring you quite a bit.”

She turned her head up, eyes locking with his, and really, could he be blamed for kissing her again?

Could he be blamed for letting his fingers start to wander again? For _showing_ her just how much he loved her?

Three more times that night?

And maybe once the next morning before they’d completely awoken to go Christmas tree hunting?

_”Love alone could waken love.” - Pearl S. Buck_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I totally headcanon that Spencer loves going down on his partner. He loves pleasing them and knowing that _he's_ the one responsible for _that_. He finds the entire thing fascinating and wants to constantly make sure that his memory isn't fooling him.
> 
> It never is.
> 
> Hit me up on [T U M B L R](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if you want. I promise I don't bite :P
> 
> (Also, side note: I might kinda sorta be writing the last chapter. Right now. As in, the only thing left after this chapter I'm writing is the epilogue. Y'all. _**Y'ALL**_.)


	23. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor. Apparently she's open to his suggestions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so pleased with the reactions I got from y'all over the last few chapters! They really mean a lot and have definitely kept me motivated as I write the final scenes (!!!!!) and think about what's next.

_”The final forming of a person’s character lies in their own hands.” - Anne Frank_

He was thinking about hands, going back over all of the photographs of all of the victims and studying the shapes their hands were forced into, thinking about the letters and what they represented.

And he was thinking about their unsubs hands, about how Mark had mentioned that the one hand looked red, that she was putting on gloves indoors.

She didn’t like her hands. Was ashamed of them.

“Whatcha got, Spence?” JJ had pulled up a chair beside him and had carefully set a cup of coffee down for him as well, and he gave her a grateful nod as he took a sip.

“We’ve already profiled our unsub as likely working in some sort of PR role - most likely for this Endo Speaks group - but I’m starting to think that it isn’t the only group she’s worked for.”

“How do you mean?”

“The way she positions her victims hands is very precise. Every letter is perfectly formed. Our unsub _knows_ sign language.”

“You’re thinking she used to be a sign language interpreter, aren’t you?”

“It makes sense. Mark - the food delivery guy that Emily and I spoke to - said that her hands looked weird. Red. She was putting on gloves like she was getting ready to go somewhere, but their food had just arrived.”

“She’s ashamed of them.”

“Exactly. I’m thinking that something happened to her, some sort of accident that’s maybe even tied in with the rest of the trauma she’s endured, and her hands were badly damaged as a result. Maybe she had to change careers because of it, and _that’s_ how she ended up with Endo Speaks.”

“That could narrow our suspect pool down significantly.” Rossi added, having been standing in the doorway listening so as not to disturb Spencer’s flow.

It still didn’t explain what made her suddenly start killing, but if they could find a suspect, the rest would fall into place.

~+~+~+~

“Since she disposed of her most recent sub,” Morgan was saying once everyone had settled into the conference room again. “It stands to reason that she's likely gonna pick a new one to help her with her latest collection.”

“Any leads on how she might be going on that front?” Hotch asked the room at large, though Garcia more-or-less answered for all of them.

“No sir, but I am making a little bit more headway narrowing _her_ down thanks to Reid's thoughts about her hands.”

Hotch nodded his understanding.

“She's been targeting us all along,” Morgan offered. “Makes sense that she's gonna keep doing so for this new collection of hers.”

“Yeah, but how?” Rossi asked. “Is she going to target one of us specifically for her trio? Pick one of us for each woman? Is she going to include men?”

“She did pose her sub the same way as the rest of her victims.” Morgan agreed.

“Yeah, but men obviously can’t get endometriosis-” Emily countered, clearly about to say more, but Spencer quietly interrupted her, causing the whole room to go quiet.

“But the women in their lives can.”

The silence lingered for a long moment before Spencer continued.

“Every uterus owner on the planet is a possible victim of endometriosis. If any of them have men in their lives that they’re close to, those men are also affected by the problems.” His voice was quiet, but it was clear that Spencer had probably been thinking about this for a little while.

“One out of every three women suffers from it. By that logic, one of the three of you-” Spencer pointed between JJ, Emily and Penelope, “-likely suffers. We-” He pointed at himself and then the rest of the men in the room, “-are close with you and could therefore potentially be affected. So, yes, I _do_ think it’s possible that she’s going to call out one of us directly, even if it’s through another woman that we know and is important to us.”

His thoughts turned to Delilah suddenly, but he pushed the sudden wave of anxiety he had at the thought back into the corner where it had come from until he had time to think about it.

“We know she studies her victims, and we know she’s studied us.” He went on. “She’s called us out specifically in every single attack she’s launched. So, next, logically… She’s going to attack one of us personally.”

None of them dared ask the ‘who’ but it was clear by the sudden tension in the room that they were all evaluating themselves and or the women in their lives to weigh them against victimology.

Spencer wasn’t sure if it made him feel better or worse that he wasn’t the only one looking rather anxious as Hotch dismissed them with instructions to get him names so he could look into protective measures.

~+~+~+~

**[txt] Delilah? Can you give me a call when you get a free moment? I need to talk to you about something?**

It took a few minutes for the response to come through, but Spencer had known that she was just finishing up her third period choir class, so he hadn’t worried.

_[txt] Sure. Give me a few.  
[txt] I’ve got a small free period coming up, but I want to get settled at my desk again first._

Spencer had found an unused office to hide in while he made this phone call, not wanting the others to overhear him. They asked enough questions and teased him enough as it was, and he didn’t really see any need to give them more cannon fodder.

Still, he was a touch lost in his thoughts as he waited, so when his phone started buzzing, he jumped slightly, though there was a relieved smile touching the corners of his lips as he answered.

“...Delilah…”

“It’s a good thing I’m alone in my office, Spencer Reid,” She teased him in response. “Because it does things to me when you say my name like that.”

He gave a low chuckle. “But you made me promise I’d always say your name that way.”

“Fair enough.” He heard her giggle. “So, what’s going on? You wanted me to call? Everything okay?”

He sighed. “In all honesty? Not really, no.” He shifted to take a seat on top of the empty desk behind him. “I need to ask you something, and I know it’s going to sound very sudden, but I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t incredibly important.”

He could hear the confusion in her voice with her response. “...oookay. What is it that you need to ask me?”

“I’m… I want to ask you to move in with me.”

There was silence on the other end, and Spencer immediately started to elaborate. “I know I haven’t gone into the details of this big case the team is working on, but I know you’ve also figured out by now that it isn’t exactly a routine one. The unsub that we’re chasing is cruel and vindictive and for some reason has targeted my team specifically, and we’re starting to think that she’s going to start getting even more personal soon, and I would just feel _infinitely_ better if you were staying with me so I could protect you and I-”

“Spencer…”

“-I don’t really think you’re what she’s necessarily looking for-”

“Spencer.”

“-or if you’d feel more comfortable staying at your place, then I’m asking permission to stay with you for a little while if you’d pre-”

“SPENCER!”

He fell quiet, realizing that he’d been rambling and hadn’t given her the chance to respond. It had been a while since he’d done that, hadn’t it?

“...sorry.”

“It’s okay...” She responded, sounding a little breathy, but not upset. “...do you _really_ think this woman poses a threat to me?”

“I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

She was quiet for another moment as she thought it over.

“...can we discuss it a little more over dinner tonight? I’m not saying no-” She was quick to clarify, which Spencer took as a good sign that she was going to say yes. “-but I think this might be a conversation better had in person, you know?”

He nodded, realizing a split second later that she couldn’t actually see him do so. “Dinner sounds good.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight then, okay? My break is almost over…”

“I’ll see you tonight, love.”

“Love you too.”

~+~+~+~

“So, I’ve been checking into Jesse’s social media accounts-” Garcia was telling them as they did their end-of-day recap before heading home for the night. “-and while there aren’t any specific mentionings of a woman in his life, he _does_ post a lot of love-related song lyrics starting about six months ago.”

“Any weather related ones?” Spencer asked, thinking back to the letters Jeremiah and the unsub exchanged.

“Uh… Yes, actually. Oh… That’s-”

“What is it Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“His last post, literally maybe an hour before he killed himself, was to say ‘Baby, it’s cold outside.’”

Everyone else looked intrigued by the comment, but Spencer just looked confused.

“...I don’t get it.”

“You’ve never heard the song ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’?” Morgan asked, but before Spencer had the chance to respond, Garcia was already playing it on her laptop.

At the end of the song he was still confused. “Wait, did he put something in her drink to make it easier to convince her to stay?”

“That’s been up for debate for years,” Emily replied. “But, in terms of Jesse, I think it means he knew what was coming.”

“Maybe she told him ahead of time?” Rossi speculated. “Like she told us, she’s completed her collection and it was time to start a new one. That collection included him, and she told him as much.”

“Well, Mark did say she looked cruel,” Emily reminded them. “But she had such complete control over her subs that they would do anything for her, without hesitation.”

“So, as soon as she finds a new sub, she’s going to start again?” JJ asked. “What if it takes her as long to find her next sub as it did for her to find Jesse after Jeremiah?”

But something told Spencer that they wouldn’t have to wait that long. Their unsub was growing impatient, and she was going to make a mistake sooner than later.

~+~+~+~

Morgan had had some sort of thing going on that evening and couldn’t take him home, so Spencer had taken the metro, but he’d been texting Delilah back and forth when he could on his ride home.

_[txt] Be careful when you come out of the elevator. The new maintenance guy just re-waxed the floors and they’re super slick._

**[txt] Why would he re-wax them now when we’re already starting to get snow and ice with the worst of it yet to come?**

_[txt] I don’t know, babe, but I’m warning you that they’re slick.  
[txt] Wish someone had warned me first…_

He was already in the elevator when that last text came through, so he didn’t bother responding, instead carefully heading straight to her door before giving a knock.

“Are you okay?” He asked as soon as she answered, though he noticed she was hobbling slightly as she pulled back to let him inside.

“I fell. Hit my knee.” She tried waving off his concern, but in a rare show of strength, Spencer scooped her up into his arms before she could say anything else and carried her over to the couch.

“How bad?”

“Spencer, it’s fine, rea-”

“How bad, Delilah?” He repeated, a little more firmly this time.

“...it’s a little bruised.” She relented, shifting a touch in her seat so she could pull the leg of her yoga pants up to show him.

It _was_ bruised, and a little swollen even, but it didn’t look like there would be any lasting damage.

He leaned over without thinking and pressed his lips to the skin just beside it. “How bad does it hurt?”

“I took a couple of Midol, should be fine.”

He was still bent over her leg but he raised his head to her confusedly. “...isn’t that for menstrual cramps?”

“Yes,” She giggled, smoothing her hand over his hair. “But it works wonders for general muscle aches, too, I’ve found. Takes down inflammation and all of that.”

He nodded before dipping his head back down to press another kiss to her knee. “Let me get you an ice pack, at least.”

Before she could protest, he was up on his feet and heading towards the kitchen, returning a moment later with a pack of frozen peas that he’d wrapped in a dish towel to reduce some of the sting of the cold.

“This should help, too.”

She thanked him, though fell quiet for a moment as she let the cold start to seep in, and Spencer gently rubbed her calf to help her relax.

“So… You want me to move in with you?”

He’d been expecting the question, yes, but perhaps not right at that moment, and he must’ve looked a little bit surprised because Delilah was giggling at him again.

“Well, yes.” He answered simply.

“...is this _just_ about your unsub?”

She’d clearly been giving the situation some thought then, hadn’t she?

“No.” She deserved honesty, and he was going to give it to her. “But I think the situation is giving me a good excuse to tell you honestly what I want.”

“Which is?” She already knew, didn’t she? And still she asked, because she wanted to hear it from him.

“You.” He breathed. “I want _you_ , Delilah Jacobs. I want you morning, noon and night in every aspect of my life in which I can have you.”

“...what else?” She needed to hear it all, didn’t she?

“I want us to live together, Delilah. I want us to live together and love together a-and get married one day and maybe even make a couple of babies together.”

He took a deep breath but kept going. “And I know that this might be sudden, that maybe I haven’t been courting you long enough, but I-I feel like I already know _so much_ about you, and I already love absolutely everything about you. Including,” His tone turned teasing all of a sudden. “When you put your cold feet up against my legs in the middle of the night.”

She let out a laugh at that, and somehow Spencer knew that the tears in her eyes were good ones. Happy tears.

“So yeah, I want you, and I want us to live together.” He moved so he could cup her cheeks in his hands, gently brushing away a few stray tears with his thumbs. “But I understand if you aren’t ready for the full thing. If you want to just… Use this time as a sort of trial run. I want to be able to keep an eye on you, love.”

She looked confused, so he elaborated. “I’m going to be completely honest with you now, and I need you to stick with me, okay?”

She nodded, so he kept going. “This unsub… She’s cruel, and she’s targeting women who she sees as more successful versions of herself. They all bare some sort of physical resemblance to her, but they also carry some of the same issues that she has.”

“Such as?”

“Well, the biggest one is endometriosis, and I know you haven’t gotten the test results back from your doctor’s appointment last week, but we both know that you’re a good candidate for it. Not only that, but several of her victims have been women in their late twenties to early thirties with dark curly hair.”

She was sitting up a bit straighter now, and Spencer took one hand off her cheek so he could lace his fingers with hers.

“The key difference between you and the rest, is that you didn’t go to Georgetown and don’t have any ties with it.”

“...but I applied there…” She whispered after a long moment of silence, and something inside Spencer broke a little bit with that admission.

It meant she was perfect then, didn’t it?

_”If no pain, then no love. If no darkness, no light. If no risk, then no reward. It's all or nothing. In this damn world, it's all or nothing.” - Glennon Doyle Melton_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say I'm sorry but... I'm not. You all knew this was coming.
> 
> My [T U M B L R](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) for those interested. I might be starting the planning for my next CM fanfic ;)


	24. Winter Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor, and apparently she cleans up very nicely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter came as a surprise to no one, but hopefully this chapter will make up for it a teeny bit?

_”Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.” - Ranier Maria Rilke_

“How many people know that you applied to Georgetown?” Spencer asked, clearly starting to panic the more he thought about what could possibly happen.

“My brother, my mom… I think I told my roommate.” Delilah was looking a bit panicked herself, but unsure as to _why_ she was panicking. “Why does it matter?”

“Our unsub was rejected by Georgetown. The vast majority of her victims had ties to Georgetown.” He was explaining, but maybe not as well as he could be.

“I turned Georgetown down because NYU made me a better offer.” She interrupted. “I wasn't turned down like she was, so surely that means I'm less like her, right?”

He shook his head. “No, Delilah. Because you were still accepted by them in the first place. She feels slighted by Georgetown, and like I said, she's targeting women she sees as more-successful versions of herself.”

Delilah was openly crying then and Spencer's heart broke a little bit more with the sight.

“So… What? What now?” She sniffed. “Where the hell do we go from here?”

“I'll figure it out.” He promised, coming close to wrap his arms around her, to press a kiss to the top of her wild curls and try not to start crying himself as she buried herself into the safety of his arms. “I'll keep you safe, love. I promise.”

~+~+~+~

In the end, having no idea what else to do, Spencer called Hotch.

“Wait, Reid, wait... slow down. What's going on?”

Reid explained the situation again but managed to slow down just slightly, even if the anxiety in his voice was still clear to hear.

“...I don’t know what to do, Hotch.” He murmured, thankful that Delilah was sound asleep in the other room and thus couldn’t hear the desperation in his voice.

She didn’t need to worry any more than she already was, after all.

“I’ll see what I can do about getting protective measures into place.” Hotch reassured, though Spencer knew the paperwork could potentially take more time than they had. “And I’m going to do my best to have an undercover agent assigned to her.”

“Hotch, I don’t think-”

“You don’t have a say in this one, Reid.” Hotch interrupted. “You’re too emotionally invested, and we all know how badly it could potentially turn out. I don’t want a known agent following your girlfriend around.”

He sighed, but kept going. “We both know that our unsub is going to be looking for any sign of that, and if she thinks that we’re genuinely on to her, she’s going to change something about her approach again and we’ll be playing catch up again.”

Spencer ran his free hand through his hair, sniffing as he nodded his head. “...I know, Hotch. I do.”

“But?”

“You’re telling me to accept that we’re using Delilah as bait, aren’t you?”

And maybe the silence on the other end was confirmation enough.

“...goodnight, Hotch.”

~+~+~+~

He went to curl up in bed with Delilah after he’d gotten off the phone with Hotch, pulling her close and burying his nose in her curls, breathing in the scent of her as he tried to force himself to sleep.

But images, thoughts, horrors plagued him.

Images of Delilah posed, hands over her head like the others, body torn and twisted and mutilated like the others.

He could hear her screams and pleas for him to come save her, for them to stop, to just kill her and end it all already, to please _maKE IT **STOP**!!_

After an hour or so he couldn’t stand his own mind anymore and he disentangled himself again, getting up and quietly making his way to the living room where he dug all of the case files out of his briefcase and spread them out before him.

He knew these files as well as the back of his hand, but surely he was missing something?

How would their unsub have even discovered Delilah? Did she know Delilah _before_ all of this started?

_She said she’d only told her mom, her brother and possibly her roommate that she’d been accepted but had turned down Georgetown. But admissions officers would know…_

_But admissions officers would work for Georgetown, too and wouldn’t have been slighted._

_...her roommate now worked for a PR company. Had an overly-clingy boyfriend that Delilah didn’t like because she thought he was too controlling…_

~+~+~+~

“...but what if _she_ was the one controlling _him_ all along?” He was detailing to the group over the phone while Delilah showered.

“You’re thinking her former roommate is our unsub?” Morgan asked, and Spencer could hear the hesitation in his friend’s voice.

“She recently got back in touch with Delilah wanting to catch up after ‘breaking up with the guy she’d been seeing in college.’ We know our unsub has stuck close to the case, and we know she’s been close enough to pick up details about us individually.”

“Yeah, but how would she have known-” Emily interjected. “- _four years ago_ that you were going to start dating Delilah right as we were seriously investigating this case?”

“Sometimes we have coincidences.” He countered. “They’re rare, and they’re messy, but this time our unsub got lucky.”

Even without being in the room he could feel the general tension and anxiousness over the phone, knowing that the team wanted to believe him but they worried he was grasping at straws.

He wasn’t going to admit that he was a little worried about that himself, but he gave Hotch the roommate’s name when prompted, and they signed off with Hotch telling him thank you and that Garcia was going to look into it.

Garcia would find a link if there was one. He had faith in her.

~+~+~+~

She took the same route to work as she always did, but she stayed on the phone with him the entire time, even switching over to facetime as she got to the school so he could see for himself, but he signed off with a small smile when the principal approached her and said he wanted to talk to her for a moment.

She texted him a short time later - right as he got to the BAU office, actually - that there had been a last-minute change in a college kid’s student teaching stuff and that she was going to have a shadow for the rest of the semester.

Spencer breathed a sigh of relief, because he knew that it meant Hotch had come through for them.

But.

“There’s no connection between Delilah’s former roommate and either of our unsub’s subs.” Garcia broke to him as she brought him over a cup of coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. “ _Nor_ does it appear that she ever even applied to Georgetown, let alone was rejected by them.”

He managed to keep from swearing, because honestly it wasn’t Garcia’s fault, but the profile had _F I T_.

Garcia squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before turning to head back to her computers.

They had to find this woman. Had to.

He couldn’t fathom the nightmares that would be coming his way if they didn’t.

~+~+~+`

The rest of the week, rather unsurprisingly, didn’t go much better.

Largely because they had nothing. Nada. Zilch.

No communications from TTK. No women had gone missing off of Garcia’s lists, and no women had turned up with TTK’s signature to give them a clue as to how her next “collection” was going to be formed.

They were at a standstill.

It made Spencer _itch _.__

__It was reassuring to him, however, that Delilah was still able to go about her business with classes and choir practices and getting ready for the big Winter Concert, a preview of which was supposedly going to be happening at the Gala on Friday night._ _

__And it made Spencer feel better still that there was someone there watching out for her, supposedly shadowing her and learning from her - Delilah came home every night talking about how great Amanda was, how engaged - and it made Spencer just that tiny bit less anxious about not being able to be there with her all the time._ _

__Not that he really _wanted_ to go back to high school, mind. He hadn’t exactly loved it the first time around, after all, but he would’ve done whatever it took to keep his Delilah safe and to make her happy._ _

__Which was why Friday afternoon found him shutting things down a little bit early, taking his leave of the team with the promises to return Monday - without a new lead, Hotch was giving them the weekend off, though they were all on call just in case something happened - and making his way to the suit rental shop to pick up his tux._ _

__He might’ve also stopped to get a haircut and style along the way. He knew Delilah was going to look phenomenal, and he didn’t want to make her look bad by not at least _attempting_ to rise to the occasion._ _

__This time, at least, he managed to avoid looking like he’d joined a boy band._ _

__Delilah had given him very specific instructions that night about leaving her alone to dress, though he only relented when she agreed to stay in contact with him until he came to her apartment to pick her up. He could respect that she wanted to dress in peace - and maybe even hopefully stun him with how incredible she looked - but he knew his thoughts would start running away from him if he couldn’t at least text her._ _

__At five thirty though, he was knocking on her door, patiently waiting with his hands just inside his pockets when he heard the sound of heels clicking closer on the other side of the door._ _

__It opened, and Spencer absolutely forgot how to breathe._ _

__She was… A vision. An absolute _angel_ in red silk._ _

__“...my _God_ you’re beautiful…” He finally managed to get out, though he had to fist his hands in his pockets in order to resist the urge to shove his hands into her hair and take out all the bobby pins that were keeping it up in its elegant updo._ _

__To resist the urge to smear that red lipstick that so perfectly matched the color of her dress._ _

__“You clean up rather nicely yourself, Spencer Reid.” Her tone was teasing, but Spencer could tell she was pleased with his reaction._ _

__A few more minutes to gather coats and keys and her purse, and they were out the door, thankfully only having to wait a minute or so before the cab Spencer had called for them arrived._ _

__As they entered the venue, Spencer was pleased to note more than a few heads turned in their direction to take them in, though he was still a little blown away that this absolute _goddess_ of a woman was so willingly on his arm._ _

__Delilah introduced him to a few of her colleagues as they made their way over to the refreshments table - they each grabbed a glass of champagne, though Spencer suspected in both of their cases is was more for appearances than anything else - but no sooner did they have their drinks in hand than the school’s principal approached._ _

__“Oh, Doctor Morrissey!” Delilah greeted, unweaving her arm from Spencer’s to shake hands with the man, and Spencer took the opportunity to rest his hand on the small of her back, trying not to take _too_ much enjoyment out of how backless the dress was._ _

__Besides. She could blame the goosebumps on the slight chill in the room, couldn’t she?_ _

__They were discussing the evening’s entertainment, particularly the bits that Delilah was going to leading, and while Spencer was interested in the conversation, he had the rather unique ability of being able to recall things instantaneously even when he wasn’t paying 100% attention._ _

__So, he started casually glancing around them, taking in the party, the bourgeoisie, the laughter, the way the teachers were all playing up to the donors around them in an effort to get more funds that they desperately needed to keep their school and their programs working._ _

__He did a double take at the sight of unruly brown curls, of cold, cruel blue eyes and a black dress with opera-length gloves, but the woman was gone before he could find her again._ _

__Plus, Delilah was speaking, and he needed to pay attention to her again._ _

__Surely he was just letting his imagination get the best of him. He was here, Amanda was here and they were in a crowded room._ _

__The unsub wouldn’t strike here, he was sure of it._ _

____

~+~+~+~

In the end, he chalked it up to his anxiety that he had seen the woman in the first place. Sure, there were other women there with curly brown hair and other women wearing black dresses and opera gloves, so a quick scan around the room coupled with everything else going on in his head, and it wasn’t exactly a big jump to understand what his brain had done.

The rest of the evening had gone splendidly. Delilah’s choirs - all three of them - had performed beautifully, though Spencer had been decidedly surprised when he noted that the final piece they were all performing together was actually a Christmas piece that Delilah had rearranged.

Perhaps his trying to convince her to get back into composing was taking hold after all.

They _did_ share a celebratory glass of champagne once she joined him again, blushing mightily though she didn’t shy away from the kiss he pressed to her temple even if she couldn’t immediately reciprocate.

As the Gala started to wind down, however, they were finally able to make their escape, finding a cab surprisingly easily and they cuddled in the backseat for warmth as they made the way back to their apartment.

It had just started to snow as they pulled up, and Spencer made quick work of paying their driver before turning back to Delilah, having had every intention of draping an arm across her shoulders so he could lead her inside, but the snow was starting to stick to her hair, and her cheeks were flushed from the cold and champagne...

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her the way she deserved to be kissed, with heat and passion and love and _need_.

“...take me home, Spencer…” She breathed against his lips when they parted, one of her hands tangled in his hair while the other clutched at his upper arm and he nodded before kissing her once more.

Kissed her until the chill started to sink in, and only then did they pull away to make their way hand-in-hand inside.

_”It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.” - Christian Nestell Bovee_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, but the next chapter y'all. I'm so ready to share it with you. Because you all are amazing and I love and adore and cherish you.
> 
> Hit me up on [~T U M B L R~](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if you're interested. Might be a few clues about my next project lingering there somewhere :P


	25. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has a new neighbor and apparently she is his everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright alright alright alright. I heard you. New chapter. You're welcome ;)

_”Love-making is an art which must be studied.” - Ivor Novello_

Even in the elevator up to his apartment, Spencer and Delilah had a difficult time keeping their hands to themselves, and Spencer couldn’t even think to stop Delilah when she started undoing his bowtie, when she used the loose ends to pull him close again for a smooch.

But the elevator dinged and the doors opened, and they had to step out to make their way to the apartment, nearly sliding again in the process.

“Did he wax the floors **again** while we were gone?!” Spencer had nearly fallen and Delilah looked a little unsteady on her heels, though they succeeded in making their way to his door without incident even if there were a handful of giggles.

Once they were safely locked up inside though, the giggles subsided and the smiles turned into something else and Spencer wasn’t really sure which of them reached out to the other first, but suddenly they were kissing again, helping each other out of their coats and letting the garments fall where they would.

Delilah’s back was exposed again now that her coat was off and Spencer took full-advantage of that, letting his fingers run gently up her spine and grinning to himself at the way she shuddered in his arms, though she retaliated by gently nipping at his lower lip.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there kissing, but Spencer only pulled back when he went to slide his hand up into her hair and was stopped by the updo.

He was only stopped for a moment though, his hands quickly figuring out where the bobby pins and clips were hidden and they clattered to the floor with tiny little tinks before he helped her carefully let her curls fall down again.

Delilah’s hands had settled at his waist as he worked, her eyes fluttering shut again once he started to kiss along her jaw, though another moment and Spencer would feel her hands slide up his chest to push his tux jacket off his shoulders and to the floor.

Another moment still and her fingers were starting to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt.

He breathed her name as he pulled back to meet her gaze, one hand cupping her cheek while the other slid down to once again tease at the skin of her lower back.

She leaned closer, pressing her lips against his jawline as she reached to take one of his hands and slide it to her side, though it took him a second to realize that she was guiding him to where the zipper was hidden in the seam.

He whispered her name in a question, but she didn’t shy away from her decision, locking her eyes with his as she encouraged him to undo the zip.

Another moment and Spencer could hear the whisper of silk sliding down her body to pool at her feet, and Delilah was standing before him in… Admittedly not much. Her dress hadn’t had a back so she hadn’t been wearing a bra.

So, she was just… Standing there in her heels and in a pair of black, lace panties that made his mouth water a bit to view, though part of that was also because her legs were on full-display.

His hands settled at her waist, feeling her warm skin beneath his fingers, and it took him a moment to drag his eyes back up her body to meet her gaze, though whatever he’d been expecting to see in her eyes, he wasn’t quite prepared to see the sureness he saw there.

“...Delilah…”

She shifted closer at his beckoning, once more pressing her lips against his jawline, and he couldn’t stop the faint moan when she kissed the spot next to his lips.

“...I want to make love with you…” She breathed against his cheek, her fingers resuming their earlier actions of undoing the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer certainly didn't stop her, but it was clear that he was checking and double checking that she was _sure_ with each pass of his gaze over her form, with each lingering caress against and over her waist and ribs…

...her breasts, his fingers stalling slightly at the feel of her nipples pebbling in a combination of the cooler air and the beginnings of arousal.

But his shirt hit the floor and a moment later she was tugging his undershirt off as well, leaving him bare from the waist up and he tugged her closer again to steal another kiss.

Another moment and they were starting to make their way towards the bedroom, miraculously making it there without running into anything, but Spencer stumbled slightly when the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed and he quickly took a seat to stop from losing his balance entirely.

Delilah took full-advantage of his seated position, though, quickly straddling him and climbing onto his lap, her hands going straight into his hair as she resumed their kiss, and Spencer was distantly aware of hearing one of her shoes fall off to hit the floor with a thud.

But Spencer didn't want to give her all the power and he quickly leaned back as he wrapped his arms around her and then turned, pinning her beneath him and chuckling at the surprised squeak she let out at the motion.

Her hands were in his hair again, gently scraping at his scalp, and one of her legs was lazily wrapped around his waist, keeping him locked close to her and he struggled to keep from rocking his hips into her.

It wasn’t time for that yet, was it? No… now was the time to prepare her, to make sure she was 110% ready for him, and it was with that in mind that Spencer found himself slowly starting to kiss a path across her jawline and down her neck to nip and lick at at her clavicles even as she whimpered and arched beneath him, breathing his name like the holiest of prayers, begging but not, for more, yes, please, _everything._

Spencer was nothing if not meticulous as he made his way lower - he’d already memorized so much of her, after all - kissing and caressing and teasing her heated flesh, lips settling on the underside of one breast even as his fingers caressed the puckered flesh of the other.

He didn’t linger on her breasts long, however - he’d learned that too much attention was overwhelming, not stimulating - but as he shifted lower still to kiss at the bottom of her ribs and lick a circle around her belly button, he found that he was going to have to slide off the bed if he wanted to continue.

So he did.

Delilah propped herself up onto her elbows to watch him as he moved to kneel on the floor, her legs over his shoulders as his hands settled on her hips and he grinned boyishly up at her, enjoying the way she bit her lower lip even as her fingers once more found purchase in his hair.

She was still biting on her lip as his fingers hooked into the waistband of those lace panties, gently tugging them down down down and off, casting them aside to land where they would as his hands smoothed back up her thighs to settle once more at gently grasping her hips.

Tugging her closer, he pressed a series of feather-light kisses to the inside of her thighs, slowly making his way closer to her center and doing his best to maintain eye contact but then he was _there_ and his lids slid closed with a faint but pleased moan as his tongue darted out for the first taste of the evening of her.

_So much better than Dilaudid._ He thought, and not for the first time.

Over the years, Spencer had learned that his eidetic memory was both the most terrible of curses and the most wonderful of blessings; tonight it was most definitely the latter, as he knew the exact pressure he needed to use to please his girl, his woman, his **goddess** and he used that knowledge enthusiastically, not shying away in the slightest as he used lips and tongue and the barest hints of his teeth to build her up.

At first, he was content with just using his mouth, hands grasping her hips or holding her thighs open just a little bit wider for better access, but Spencer could tell by the way Delilah was breathing that she needed just a _teeny_ bit more and another moment found a hand slipping beneath his chin so he could ease a finger inside of her.

A few more flicks of his tongue and a second finger joined the first, the pads brushing over her G-spot as he curled the digits inside of her and as he suckled just a teensy bit harder on her clit in an effort to push her just that much closer to the edge.

Apparently, though, she was closer than either of them had anticipated, because suddenly she was arching, letting out a cry of ecstasy as her whole body shuddered and her thighs suddenly tightened around his head.

Any other night and he would’ve eased what he was doing, would’ve slowed down and coaxed her through her climax and then pulled back to let her breath…

...but tonight he wanted to push further. Wanted to make her feel _everything_ so he didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down, but kept going, kept stimulating even if he was careful to keep an ear out to make sure he didn’t push too hard.

Judging by her moans, her gasps and whimpers and pleas she was completely okay with what he was doing, and he rubbed his fingers just a little bit harder, did his best to keep his tongue moving at the same pace it had been before giving her clit another long, slightly-hard suck.

She cried out his name with her second orgasm and Spencer greedily lapped at her release, licking her clean like he’d been longing to do from his very first taste of her but before he could try and coax a third out of her, she was tugging on his hair, tugging him away from her sex and up, closer to her, her hands trembling as they settled on either side of his face as she pulled him back towards her for a kiss.

_Oh… Her hands aren’t the only thing trembling._

“...you okay?” He breathed, hating being away from her lips but he had to be sure.

He’d never forgive himself if he’d hurt her, especially not in a moment like this.

She nodded, still gasping, her eyes fluttering open again to meet his and she gave him a grin before pulling him back down for another kiss.

He was aware of her hands grasping at his torso, of course, of them sliding down his sides and teasing at the skin of his lower back, but still he was surprised when one of them slid between them to grasp him through his trousers, and he broke their kiss with a gasp of his own.

“...God, Delilah…”

“I want _all_ of you, Spencer…” He was looking down at her, one arm keeping him braced above her while the other was gripping her hip again but he couldn’t see any hesitations in her eyes.

She wanted him. All of him, just as she said, and he could only pray that he’d prepared her enough.

So he nodded, trying not to roll his hips into her touch as she gently squeezed him through his trousers but instead pulled back so he could start undoing his belt.

Not one to remain idle, Delilah sat up and reached out for him, helping him get the rest of the way undressed before they moved together until she was resting more against the pillows.

Then came the awkward part, and Spencer blushed as he reached over towards his nightstand drawer and grabbed the box he’d stored there a week or so previously.

“Were you…?”

“I knew we were going to get here eventually,” He answered, using his teeth to tear open the foil packet he’d grabbed. “I didn’t know _tonight_ but I knew I wanted to be prepared for-”

He cut himself off with a hiss as Delilah took the condom from him and slid it onto his length, making sure it was in place before giving him a long, slow stroke with her hand.

“I knew it would be tonight,” She breathed, one hand cupping his cheek while the other settled at his hip to encourage him to lower himself on top of her. “I _wanted_ it to be tonight.”

There was so much heat boiling inside him and Spencer was desperate to let it consume him and he rested his forehead against hers as he wrapped an arm around her to pull her up closer to him.

“Please… _Please_ tell me if I hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

She reached down between them and took him in hand again, guiding him to her entrance even as she turned her head to press a kiss to _that_ spot and he whimpered as she encouraged him further.

“ _Please_ , love…”

“Delilah…”

He pushed just inside of her, pausing and giving her time to adjust before sinking in another inch before withdrawing that same inch, pushing just a hint further with each of his slow, methodical thrusts until somehow, miraculously he had settled completely inside of her.

Christ, but Delilah was…

Delilah was crying??

“Shit, I’m sorr-”

“Don’t you dare move, Spencer Reid.” She moaned, one hand gripping the back of his neck and nails of the other digging into his hip. “ _Fuck_ please don’t move.”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed, biting down on his lip again and pressing a kiss to her temple in apology.

“...I-I didn’t know…”

“...Delilah…”

“...I didn’t know it could feel this good.”

He’d been about to apologize again, but _that_ brought him up short, and he pulled back just enough to look down at her again.

“...I-I’m not hurting you?”

She shook her head. “No… You can keep going.” She let out a breathy chuckle. “Just go slow.”

It took him another moment before he did, his eyes locking with hers as he carefully rolled his hips, marveling in the way her eyes fluttered shut and her head tilted back a touch, in the way her lips parted as she remembered to breathe and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

He pressed closer, shifting his hold on her until he could bring her hips up more fully against his, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him as he slowly buried himself inside of her over and over and over again.

Somehow, in the middle of all of that, he remembered to kiss her though it was a struggle to do so when he was also trying to breathe, to concentrate on pleasing her and to try and keep from losing himself too soon.

It had been a while, after all.

Delilah was starting to match his thrusts though, and he buried his face against her neck and settled his lips against her pulse point as she dug her fingers into his hair, rolling her hips now in tandem with his and Spencer could hear it again in her breathing that she was building up to another orgasm.

He wanted to hear and see her shatter one more time, needed to, and he slipped his hand between them, finding her clit with the tip of his middle finger as his thrusts turned slightly harder.

“Please…” She whimpered into his shoulder, biting down despite herself at the first tremors of her release and Spencer gave her what she wanted - what they both wanted - and Delilah threw her head back with a gasping scream.

Spencer followed her over the edge a handful of thrusts later, fireworks shooting up his spine and making the edges of his vision white out as he let out a guttural moan of his own, the arm wrapped around her torso holding her as close as it could for fear of her somehow slipping away from him.

When he started to regain his senses, it was to the feel of her fingers carding through his hair, of her pressing kisses to his temple, of sweat-slick skin sliding against his with each trembling breath she took in.

And then he was kissing her again, rolling them onto their sides - disposing of the condom into his bedside wastebasket as discreetly as he could - and tangling their limbs together as their heartbeats and their breathing evened out and synced up.

Delilah was still trembling in his arms, her voice shaking slightly when she spoke, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks. “...I thought that only happened in romance novels…”

Spencer might’ve been blushing some himself, but his smile was as adoring as his gaze as he looked her over. “...are you _sure_ I didn’t hurt you?”

She shook her head. “ **That** was perfection, Spencer…” She leaned closer to steal a kiss again, only pulling back far enough a moment later to brush the tip of her nose against his. “...I meant it when I said I didn’t realize sex could feel that good.”

Her eyes were wide when they reopened, but her smile was just as adoring as his own. “...that making love wasn’t just something Hollywood had made up.”

He grinned and kissed her yet again, soon setting out to prove to her just how much Hollywood hadn’t made the concept up.

~+~+~+~

The next morning dawned bright but cold, the snow from the previous evening having left a considerably thick blanket over the city, but Spencer had two things going for him to keep him warm.

First and foremost was the heater in his apartment, which thankfully seemed to work off of literally whatever it could because he’d never had a problem with it _not_ working, even when the power was out.

Secondly, and far more importantly, he had Delilah curled up in bed with him and she was apparently prepared to do whatever was necessary to prove to him that sex was a better stimulant than coffee to get one going in the morning.

She’d made it to kissing about halfway down his torso when a sudden pounding on his front door had both of them sitting up straight and scrambling for covers.

“SPENCER REID!” Why was Morgan pounding on his door at 6:42 on a Saturday morning? “SO HELP ME YOU BETTER HAVE A DAMN GOOD REASON FOR NOT ANSWERING YOUR PHONE AND THE _**ONLY**_ REASON I’M ACCEPTING IS YOU’RE DEAD!”

“ _Shit…!_ ” Spencer swore, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing his phone, swearing again when he saw the string of missed calls and texts and voicemails that the team had left him.

In his defense, his phone had been on silent, and he’d had _way_ more important things on his mind.

“SPENCER!”

“Just a minute!” He called back, scrambling to find something to put on - it turned out to be his tuxedo pants and a t-shirt - before he made his way towards the front door where Morgan was still pounding.

“Christ, Morgan, I said just a min-”

“We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for nearly four hours, Reid!” Morgan chastised as he pushed his way into Spencer’s apartment, Emily and JJ hot on his heels, though JJ pulled a face and looked away after she took a quick glance around Spencer’s apartment.

Spencer already knew what she’d seen and knew when Emily saw it a moment later.

Delilah’s dress was still a puddle of red silk there in the middle of his living room floor, his white button down lying just a few inches away.

“My phone was on silent. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? Well sorry isn’t going to cut it!” Morgan kept going, shrugging off Emily’s hand when she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“I’m sorry if I worried you,” Spencer replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “But, for the record, I _am_ entitled to a personal life as well, you know.”

“A personal life?” Morgan rolled his eyes and turned to look away, though he froze when he finally took in what Emily and JJ had already seen. “...oh.”

“You must be Derek and Emily and JJ…” Four sets of eyes turned to focus on Delilah as she spoke from where she’d entered the room, and Spencer blushed at the sight of her in one of his button downs but at least she’d put on a pair of yoga pants as well. “...I’m Delilah.”

Spencer finished the introductions with a blush, but he didn’t shy away from Delilah when she came to stand beside him and take his hand in hers.

“I’m sorry we had to disturb you,” JJ murmured with a small smile, and Spencer was reminded of just how wonderful of a friend JJ was in that moment. “But it’s actually sort of fortunate that you’re here.”

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked, his grip on Delilah’s hand tightening just a fraction, but there was a relief in her giving a squeeze back.

“We got a call from Mark around eleven thirty last night,” Emily explained. “Says he got a late night delivery request for a new address, but when he got there it was our unsub who answered the door.”

Spencer froze. “You’re kidding?”

Morgan shook his head. “Mark said it seemed like she didn’t recognize him, but he definitely recognized her. Said she’s dyed her hair blonde, but we have an address. Hotch wants all of us in ASAP so we can decide on our approach.”

Spencer nodded and turned to Delilah. “I want you to come with us.”

She wasn’t the only one in the room who looked shocked at his suggestion.

“There’s nowhere safer for you right now than the FBI, just in case.” He explained and while Delilah didn’t look entirely comfortable with the idea, the trio were nodding their hesitant agreement.

“Okay.” She agreed, giving him a small smile. “Is it um… Is it okay if I run next door and grab a few things though?”

He nodded, and was about to go with her when Morgan stopped him, and Delilah waved him off, telling him she was just going next door to grab a bag that she’d already packed in prep to bring to his place.

“You don’t think our unsub showed herself on accident, do you?” He asked once Delilah was out of earshot.

“None of us do, no.” Morgan answered. “She’s played this game too well for too long to make that big of a mistake now.”

“It’s the other reason we came here this morning.” Emily broke in, looking apologetic. “When we hadn’t heard anything from you, we were worried she’d gotten impatient.”

Spencer shook his head, blushing as he replied. “No um… It wasn’t that.”

The three were smirking at him, but Spencer was frowning.

“...where’s Delilah? I figured she’d be back by now…”

“She said she was grabbing a couple of things.” JJ reassured. “You know how _one_ bag usually turns into two or three, Spence.”

He shook his head. “Still, she’d be back by now…”

He took a step towards the door, listening for any sound of her and, hearing none, took a few more until he was standing in the hallway.

His heart stopped.

Delilah’s door was closed, but her keys were in the lock, still gently swinging as if they’d been moving just a few seconds before that...

...And her away bag was sitting on the floor where it had clearly been dropped, as if tossed aside during a sudden struggle.

_“Even cowards can endure hardship; only the brave can endure suspense.” - Mignon McLaughlin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled writing those final few sentences. I cried a little bit re-reading them now while editing.
> 
> Brace yourselves, loves. The next couple of chapters are gonna be tough.
> 
> Find me on [~tumblr~](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if you want!


	26. 137 Seconds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

_”Who, except the gods, can live time through forever without any pain?” - Aeschylus_

The next few minutes were a blur of images his mind couldn’t quite clarify.

He remembered calling out for her, shoving his way inside her apartment, sliding on the slick tile floor as Morgan called out to him, no one being inside her place…

_One hundred and thirty seven seconds._ His mind kept screaming at him over and over and over and over again. _It only took one hundred and thirty seven seconds for you to lose her._

Other than the dropped bag there’d been no sign of a struggle. Delilah had simply vanished into thin air.

He was sitting on his couch with his hands in his hair and his head between his knees as he tried to remember how to breathe, as he tried to ignore the frantic phone calls and the voices around him because he knew they were only going to get louder.

There was an icepick shoving its way into his eye socket again.

~+~+~+~

Garcia was handing him something - a cup of tea. Something to soothe him, perhaps? - and Spencer blinked as he realized he was at the BAU.

He didn’t remember the drive there.

“I don’t think we need to check the apartment,” He was vaguely aware of Morgan telling Hotch. “The evidence is outside of it. There in the hallway.” They were all staring at him, pitying him.

He’d heard her keys jangling, turning in the lock and then it had gone quiet when she’d slipped inside. So, whoever had grabbed her had waited until she was coming back out.

_What else what else what else what else what else wha-_

“Spence?” JJ was kneeling in front of him, a hand cupping his cheek as she looked up into his eyes. “...you with us?”

“He waited until she was coming back out.”

Four trained FBI agents had been standing less than twenty feet away, and somehow he’d grabbed Delilah without a sound?

“We know,” JJ smoothed her thumb over his cheekbone, but it wasn’t the right touch and he pulled away to let his head drop into his hands again. She just started gently rubbing his back instead.

_What else what else what else what else what else?_

He wanted to throw up.

No. Scratch that. He was _going_ to throw up, just barely managing to grab the trash bin from beside his desk before it came up, and suddenly JJ was rubbing his back for an entirely different reason.

Well, he was never getting the deposit back on his tux now…

He was distantly aware of Morgan talking on the phone behind him, but the lights were killing him and the icepick was driving into the other eye as well and honestly what the hell was in that tea Garcia had made for him because it _smelled_.

...there’d been someone else out in the hallway.

His head shot up as he suddenly grabbed onto JJ, startling her as his hands gripped her upper arms.

“Was there anyone in the hallway when the three of you got to my apartment?”

“Loosen your hold a bit, Spence-”

“JJ, _please_ -”

“Easy, Reid…” Morgan murmured, coming up to help him loosen his grip on JJ, and Spencer murmured an apology as he noticed she started rubbing her arms.

“I’m sorry, I just… Someone else was in the hallway.”

“Sure.” Morgan confirmed. “The maintenance guy. He looked like he was cleaning up a spill or something.”

“Older guy? About sixty? Heavier set?”

“No…” JJ was shaking her head, staring off into space slightly as she thought. “...younger. Our age, maybe. Tall, athletic.”

Morgan was pulling out his phone to call Garcia.

Reid had never really been the praying type, but he sent out a plea to the universe in that moment.

~+~+~+~

_Jared Sullivan: age 35. Six foot two, 211 pounds of solid muscle. Long time Catholic, former altar boy. Dropped out of school at 16, later received GED at 23. Unable to hold a steady job, but was always described as the employee willing to do whatever to please his bosses, especially his female bosses._

Everything about him fit the profile.

Spencer kinda wanted to throw up again, especially because the rest of the team kept looking at him like _that_ and he hated their pity.

They still had a job to do, his relationship to the victim be damned.

“Reid, go home.” Hotch was telling him, but he shook his head, flat out refusing.

“That wasn’t a request.”

“Then I’m ignoring your orders, Hotch.” He shot back, not even particularly caring how he sounded.

“Reid-”

“We didn’t stop you when Haley was targe-”

“Yes, and look at how that turned out.” Hotch interrupted, ignoring the looks of everyone around them who clearly didn’t want to bare witness to this particular argument. “Learn from my mistakes, Spencer. Let us take care of this.”

He looked around the room at all the faces looking back at him, the faces of his co-workers, his friends… His family.

They were all agreeing with Hotch.

“...I can’t go home…” He whispered, already thinking about the bed and trying not to let flashes of the night before derail him.

He had to be here, in this room, if he ever wanted to get her back.

“Sir?” Garcia interrupted, walking into the room with her laptop. “I um… I think that you all should see this.”

Hotch waved her in, not immediately saying anything else to Spencer, but as soon as she finished plugging her laptop in, she turned to Spencer and held out her hands to him.

“Come on. They need to see this. You don’t.”

He looked blearily up at her, confusion quickly blooming on his features. “I don’t-”

“She sent us a live video link.” Garcia couldn’t even fake a smile for his benefit and Spencer knew he was going to be sick again. “I’m tracing it now, but it’s going to take some time. I won’t watch it, and you don’t need to.”

“Go get him some tea, Garcia.” Hotch gently encouraged and Spencer was thankful that they at least waited until he was out of the room before they hit play on the video feed.

And at least Delilah wasn’t screaming at that moment.

~+~+~+~

Garcia had plopped him in a chair in her office with a hot cup of tea and a blanket that she’d pulled from somewhere after dimming the lights so he could try to just breathe.

 _Why did she send us a video link this time?_ His mind was racing, being pulled in twenty different directions about what was happening, but the one thing that each of those directions agreed on was that they all led to getting Delilah back.

He couldn’t stop his mind from racing, from trying to put all of the facts together.

_She originally called out to the BAU, then did it twice more. Then she called out to us individually, but all along, the vast majority of her victims were like Delilah._

“Garcia…”

“Nope.”

“...why did we dismiss Delilah’s old college roommate as a suspect.”

“Not answering you.”

“You said there was no connection between her and either of the subs-”

“Still not responding.”

“-but what if there was?”

“Spencer. No.”

“Everything about her fit.” He sat up straighter in his chair, ignoring the way the motion made his head swim. “She’s in a PR role and has to travel a lot for work. She had a former boyfriend who was exceedingly clingy and needy whom she likely controlled entirely up until they quit dating right around the time of the first murders.”

Garcia wasn’t responding, which Spencer took as a sign to keep going.

“Delilah said they had a lot in common, but that her roommate didn’t want to be involved in the Arts programs at NYU. What if that was because she wasn’t talented enough?”

“You’re thinking she was rejected by them?” Garcia was playing along now, and yes, Spencer’s head might’ve still felt like a piece of rebar had been shoved into his skull and someone was hitting it over and over again with a rubber mallet, but he needed this.

“We know our unsub has a problem with the Arts, likely because she was rejected by it.”

“But Delilah’s roommate never even applied to Georgetown as far as I could tell.”

“But Delilah did, and she turned them down because NYU made her a better offer.” Spencer countered. “So, she was accepted into multiple Arts programs whereas our unsub couldn’t get into any of them.”

“But how does the BAU fit into all of this?”

“I think we’ve been her targets all along.” He pulled the blanket around his shoulders a bit tighter around him. “But she needed a way to… To make it more personal.”

Garcia was suddenly hugging him, and it took Spencer a moment to realize that he was crying.

~+~+~+~

Garcia did some more digging, but Spencer hadn’t been aware of it, having finally fallen asleep once the exhaustion and the release of chemicals from crying had hit his system.

He woke up to a mostly-dark computer lab with only the monitor of Garcia’s middle computer screen being on to keep it from being pitch black.

The screen saver was on, and Spencer’s curiosity was getting the better of him.

He hit the spacebar on her keyboard once to wake the monitor up, immediately sitting up as straight as he could in his chair when the screen came to life and he saw what was on it.

On the left hand side of the screen was a picture of a woman Spencer had never seen before, but who could almost pass as Delilah’s sister. The caption under it read ‘Maria Lancaster’. Delilah’s college roommate.

On the right hand side of the screen, however, was something far, far worse.

The video link.

It wasn’t active, wasn’t running so Spencer couldn’t immediately see what was happening, but he knew it would only take a couple of clicks to hit play so he _could_ see what was being done to his love.

His fingers were hovering over the mouse.

“If you do-” A voice softly called out to him from the darkened doorway. “-you’ll never be able to _un_ see it, Reid.”

He’d been expecting Garcia or JJ, Morgan or Emily, or maybe even Rossi.

He hadn’t been expecting Hotch.

“If you hit play, you’ll have to watch it, and you and I both know that once you see it, you’ll never be able to forget it.”

“My mind… My imagination… It can’t be worse than that.”

“It could be.” Hotch reached over to pull Spencer’s hand away. “But trust me when I say you don’t want to see her that way, no matter if it is or isn’t as bad as what your mind is constructing.”

“Hotch-”

“Every day, Spencer-” Hotch interrupted. “-Every day for the rest of your life, when you look at this woman, you’ll be reminded of what you saw done to her. Every day you’ll look at her, and you’ll see flashes of what you’re going to see if you hit play. She deserves better than that. She deserves your ignorance on this one.”

He slumped in his chair, surprised but also not when he found Hotch wrapping his arms around him as he started to cry again.

~+~+~+~

If there was one thing to be said about the live feed, it was the guarantee that Delilah was still alive.

It also seemed as though the unsub had little interest in sharing the video with anyone other than them, but she’d done some Grade A Hacking to make it harder for Garcia to track her down.

“I know she’s somewhere within an hour’s drive of D.C. proper,” Garcia was quietly telling them, her hand resting on Spencer’s shoulder as he drank what felt like his sixth cup of coffee for the day.

In reality it was his eighth.

“But the servers are bouncing constantly, and it’s taking me longer than expected to get a lock.”

“We showed Maria’s picture to Mark,” Emily continued. “And he confirmed that it was definitely her, just blonde. We’ve got undercovers checking out the place now, but so far reports are coming back that it’s not a permanent residence.”

“What about Jared Sullivan’s address?” Morgan asked. Sullivan hadn’t lived far from Reid’s apartment, but he hadn’t lived on the premises either.

“No one was home,” Hotch answered, since he and Rossi had gone to check it out. “No signs of anyone having lived there for quite some time either.”

Spencer was thinking about waxed floors.

Sullivan must’ve been waxing and re-waxing them over and over again to ensure that when the time came, he could move quickly and smoothly. They’d all experienced how easy it was to slide on the tile, but Spencer was confused about how he’d managed to keep his balance while moving Delilah as well.

There hadn’t been any drag marks, but non-skid soles would’ve squeaked against the floor.

Had he been barefoot?

He could’ve gone down the elevator and then out the back through the maintenance and emergency exit. The unsub would’ve been waiting in the alley for them.

The alley that connected directly to the street that ran in front of the building.

The street that had video surveillance.

“Garcia-” He interrupted whoever was speaking - Hotch, as it turned out - without even bothering with an apology. “-I need you to pull up traffic surveillance for outside of my apartment building yesterday morning.”

“Reid?” Hotch didn’t seem _too_ put out at least.

“Sullivan would’ve had to’ve used the emergency exit at the back of the building. It’s where he parks his service van, but it’s also where our unsub could’ve picked him up. Her car would be much less likely to draw our attention than his van.”

“Got it.” Garcia called out, pulling up the surveillance in question on the overhead.

It took a moment, longer than Spencer had anticipated, but a shiny, black, four-door coupe was carefully pulling out of the alley a few minutes after Delilah had gone missing.

And there was a curly-headed blonde at the wheel.

“Follow that car for as long as you can, see where it goes.” Hotch ordered, getting to his feet. “Get an APB out on it as well, see if we can track it down. Reid-” He looked pointedly at Spencer. “-Go help her. The rest of you, with me. I want all of us in cars and ready to go as soon as we find her.”

Spencer wanted to argue, wanted to go with them because if anyone should be busting in to save Delilah, it should be him.

But there was that same emotion in Hotch’s eyes that had been there the previous evening when he had warned Spencer about playing that video.

Hotch was trying to protect him and maybe Spencer just had to be okay with that.

_”Everybody wants to protect their own tribe, whether they are right or wrong.” - Charles Barkley_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am sorry.
> 
> Hit me up on [~tumblr~](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to yell at me multiple times :P


	27. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has... Hope?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAH!!!

_”Desperation sometimes drives innovation.” - Dara Khosrowshahi_

Their unsub was good, one of the best that they’d ever dealt with.

But Penelope Garcia was better, faster, and when paired with a desperate Spencer Reid, well…

Their unsub didn’t stand a chance.

It took time - longer than any of them might’ve wanted - but they were able to track the black coupe as it moved through traffic.

She never sped. Always used her turn signals and maintained a safe driving distance from the car in front of her. Never did anything to draw attention to herself. Smart. Careful.

When she got onto the freeway heading out of town, they had to get creative to keep an eye on her, but they managed it up until she turned off the interstate.

But, it narrowed their geographical profile considerably.

Calculations, algorithms, more coffee than was probably healthy.

“I’ve got it narrowed down to a square block of abandoned buildings.” Garcia murmured as she gently shook him awake from the cat nap he’d somehow fallen into and he scrubbed his hands over his eyes to push the sleep from them as he squinted at her computer screen.

His head was still pounding, but it was a duller thing now. More monotonous. Draining. Maybe he needed to eat something?

“Have you told the team?”

“Of course.” She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “They’re already in route.”

It was an hour drive there, but they had to be careful about the approach. They didn’t want to tip their unsub off, after all.

So, Spencer curled up in his seat and started praying again.

~+~+~+~

They’d made it just a few minutes before sundown and so far there’d been no signs that Maria had taken note of their presence. SWAT had been called in as well, and quick surveillance showed that the third building had heat signatures concurrent with the presence of people inside.

Three people. Two of them very close while the third stood a small distance away.

Morgan and Emily were going to lead separate teams into the building - one from the front, the other from the back - to converge in the middle in the hopes of giving the unsubs nowhere to run even if they managed to figure out what was going on ahead of time.

The building was already surrounded, and Garcia had found the building’s blueprints, which showed that those two entrances were the only ways in or out.

Spencer was still curled up in a chair, chewing on the skin of his thumb as he tried not to come apart at the seams.

Delilah needed him and he wasn’t there. Wasn’t going to be allowed to see her until they brought her home, and it was absolutely _killing him_.

“Breathe, Spencer...” Garcia murmured from where she was standing behind him, her hands settling on his shoulders in a comforting touch.

“How do you do this every day, Garcia?” He asked. “How do you sit here and watch us go into these situations and not die from the stress?”

“Because somehow, despite all of the odds, you all keep somehow making it.” She squeezed his shoulders. “And I have faith that you always will.”

“We’re going in.” They suddenly heard Morgan’s whispered voice crackle over the coms and Garcia’s grip tightened on his shoulders just a fraction.

Garcia had let it slip that Hotch had ordered her not to let any of the visual feeds play as long as Spencer was in her office with her, but they all knew that Spencer wouldn’t’ve been able to handle it if he couldn’t at least hear the audio.

As it was though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

There were sounds of rough, animalistic grunts, of whimpered but slurred pleas to stop, for help, please please please and _God_ but Spencer wanted to cry at the sound of his love making those noises.

But, far more terrible than those were the sounds of a woman laughing. Laughing and belittling and _encouraging_ what was happening.

Spencer was only hearing it over the coms and those words were loud enough to make him deaf, the sounds of skin slapping roughly against skin enough to make him want to vomit, though he already knew there was nothing really left in his system that could come up.

Garcia’s grip tightened a bit further, and Spencer realized that they were both crying a bit.

“Freeze! FBI!” Morgan called out and Jared Sullivan roared.

Without a video feed, it was hard to know for certain what was happening, but shots were being fired - and it didn’t just sound like standard FBI issued weapons being fired either - and there were screams of terror and pain and anger for several long seconds before there was silence.

And then…

“Delilah?” They heard murmured over the coms in a soothing voice. “Hi… It’s Emily. Do you remember me? I work with Spencer.” He could hear sobbing. “Ssh, ssh, it’s okay… It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Spencer immediately started sobbing in relief, clinging to Garcia as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind to hold him close and he was distantly aware of her pressing a relieved kiss to the top of his head.

He could hear Emily calling for a medic, and medics were only called for the living.

Delilah was alive. She was safe.

~+~+~+~

_Jared Sullivan was dead._

_Maria Lancaster was very much alive and in custody._

~+~+~+~

Spencer met them at the hospital, but was stopped by Hotch just outside the door to Delilah’s room.

“She’s in surgery.”

“Ho-How bad?”

“It’s not good.” Hotch was honest and shared the details.

A handful of stab wounds - one of which was severe enough to require the surgery she was currently undergoing - her right shoulder was dislocated, her right hand smashed repeatedly and the bones broken. Multiple contusions across her body, a broken cheekbone and a couple of cracked teeth along with a dislocated jaw. Slashes across her back and down her legs, almost like she’d been whipped with barbed wire.

“...and, I’m sorry, Spencer.” Hotch reached out to squeeze his shoulder and Spencer knew what was coming before it was said. “She _was_ raped. Most likely repeatedly.”

Spencer nodded as he sank down into the chair behind him.

“They’re making sure there isn’t any lasting damage from the stabbings, applying stitches to the worst of the cuts on her back and legs.” Hotch was still talking, and while Spencer heard the words, he wasn’t entirely comprehending them. “The damage to her hand is severe, but they’re likely going to wait a day or so before attempting surgery to repair it.”

Spencer nodded again, staring straight ahead as he let it all sink in.

Hotch had fallen quiet for a long moment and Spencer was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the man taking a seat beside him.

“She’s alive, Spencer.” Hotch’s voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. “The only place you can go from here is back up. You’ll get there.”

But would Delilah ever forgive him for letting her down? For not being able to fulfill his promise to protect her?

~+~+~+~

When she was brought out of surgery and placed into her own room, Spencer curled up in the chair in the corner to watch the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took as she slept.

She’d had copious amounts of Dilaudid pumped into her veins in a very short amount of time, which the doctors knew, so they’d been hesitant to put her on anything else. Even surgery had been a little touch and go because of potential complications with the anesthesia.

Nursing staff came in every hour on the hour to check and see how she was doing with her morphine drip, each of them also asking Spencer if he needed anything, but when their questions went unanswered for a fifth time, they knew to stop asking.

Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, curled up in the chair in a way that only a man as gangly as him could pull off, but it was the sound of someone muttering in a panic that brought him out of his sleep a short while later.

The words were slurred because of her jaw, hoarse because of the damage her screams had caused to her throat, but it was still clear to him that she was begging someone to stop.

He wasn’t thinking about consequences as he reached out to her, as he carefully smoothed his hand over her hair and murmured to her that she was safe, that he had her, to ‘please, love, please wake up.’

She did with a start, jerking away from him as hard as her tortured body would allow her and as much as Spencer wanted to hold her close and reassure her, he knew that doing so could cause her to panic further so he took a step back and held his hands out to his sides in a show of openness.

“You’re safe, Delilah.” He continued to murmur, halfway reaching out to her but once more stopping himself. “Nothing can hurt you here.”

Delilah was still eyeing him skeptically, glancing around the room as if she fully expected Jared and Maria to burst out of the shadows and start attacking her again and Spencer’s heart broke a little more at the sight.

“May I sit down?” He asked, gently patting the spot on the bed where he was proposing to sit next to her left side, content to wait as long as necessary for her to respond.

Eventually, she gave a small nod, and he carefully took a seat, mindful not to jostle her or in any way even touch her.

Delilah had looked down to study the space between where her hip ended and where his began, judging it.

Spencer wondered if he was too close. Perhaps too far away? He couldn’t read her expression.

“Are they dead?” Delilah croaked, the words skewed and mumbled because of her jaw, but clear enough to him.

“He is.” He nodded. “She’s in custody awaiting questioning.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his then, a hardness there that Spencer had seen before in other victims, the sort of hardness that had no place in his beloved’s tender brown eyes.

“Good.”

Her eyes dropped to once more study that space between them before she scooted her hand closer to him and just barely brushed the tips of her fingers over his knuckles.

“...do you want to talk?”

“No.” She tapped his middle knuckle with her index fingers.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” She turned her hand over and slid it under his and he slowly curled his fingers around hers in response.

“Say the word and I’ll go if you need me to.”

“...okay.”

She fell asleep still holding his hand.

~+~+~+~

“I want to be the one to question Maria Lancaster.”

Spencer was sitting in the waiting room while Delilah was undergoing another surgery - this time to try and repair some of the damage done to her hand - and the team had come to support him and each and every one of them swung tired eyes to study him at his sudden proclamation.

“You sure that’s a good idea, kid?” Morgan asked, tilting his head slightly to the side as he studied the younger man.

“I want answers.”

“We all wants answers,” Rossi countered, taking a sip of his coffee. “But you being in the room might not get you the _right_ answers.”

“She’s had a special interest in me this entire time,” Reid responded, clearly playing Devil’s Advocate. “She might’ve been targeting the BAU in general, but she brought in details from _my_ life to make it even more personal. Nearly all of her victims were modeled after _my_ partner, and she even attacked my partner at a time when she knew it was going to hurt me the most.”

He looked around the room and met all of their eyes in turn. “...do any of you _really_ think she’s going to talk to anyone else _but_ me?”

“...Prentiss, I want you in the room with him,” Hotch quietly ordered after a solid minute of silence. “The rest of us will be behind the mirror.”

~+~+~+~

The interior of the interrogation room was bright, almost too bright, and Maria Lancaster looked uncomfortable.

Spencer and Emily were standing behind the mirror with the others as they waited for their opportunity to go in, studying and forming more of the profile on this woman who had eluded them for so long.

Something about her was making things itch in the back of Spencer’s head.

“I’ll go in first,” Emily was saying. “You should follow behind me a moment later.”

He nodded, watching as Emily made her way out of the room and then waiting until she’d taken a seat and introduced herself before starting to make his way into the room as well.

“...where’s Spencer?” He heard Maria ask, her voice low, soft, far deeper than what was normal for a woman.

“Well, Spencer isn’t available at the moment,” Emily replied, sounded chagrined. “But _I’d_ like to talk to you, too..”

“You don’t have anything interesting to say. Spencer does.”

Spencer frowned, surprised but not. He’d based his argument for doing this interrogation himself on the idea that she’d only want to talk to him, after all.

“I suppose this is my cue to come in then.” He muttered as he entered, taking a seat next to Emily and ignoring the way Maria was looking at him.

Only Delilah was allowed to look at him that way.

There were any number of things that he could’ve asked first. Any number of things that he could’ve said to convey just how horrified all of them were by what she’d done.

Instead, he simply said: “You lost.”

Perhaps that wasn’t the right thing to say, and Emily had certainly tensed slightly next to him, but he wasn’t backing down from it.

“Did I though?” Maria replied.

“You’ve been stopped.” He countered, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers in a hard gaze. “You’re going to prison and you’re going to be tried in front of a group of your peers and found guilty and you’re going to receive the maximum penalty allowed by law.”

She was quiet at that, searching his eyes for… Something. Something that he couldn’t name but that clearly surprised him and Emily both when Maria spoke again.

“But it got me closer to you.”

“Why me?” He asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “What exactly is your fascination with me?”

She looked a touch crestfallen suddenly. “...y-you don’t remember me?”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life. I’d remember you if I had.”

“You taught a class, six years ago, a-an introductions to criminology class…” He remembered the class, of course, but not her. “...I was sitting in the front row… We made _eye contact_ Spencer.”

“It’s Doctor Reid, thank you.” His words were clipped. Hard. “And… what? You think that because we made eye contact - which I have no recollection of - it gave you permission to do what you did?”

“I had to get your attention somehow.” She sounded bratty suddenly, like a petulant child.

“So, killing over twenty women after you brutally tortured them was the best way to get my attention?”

“I never touched them.”

“You orchestrated the crimes. You coerced your subs into doing your dirty work for you.”

“They had the option to say no.”

“No they didn’t. That’s why you picked them. You knew they would do _anything_ for you, and you used that to your full advantage, didn’t you?”

“...but I never touched those women myself.”

“You positioned their hands though.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“It was too delicate of a touch for your subs to have done it. Too personal.” He glanced down at her hands, noting the angry red scars that covered them. Definitely burn scars.

Her hands trembled slightly. Likely nerve damage. She noticed him looking and immediately pulled them back to hide them in her lap.

“You know that we’ve done a full profile on you. We know _why_ you did every single thing that you’ve done.”

She scoffed, but he kept going, not giving her a chance to reply. “You targeted women who were like you. Women who were interested in the arts and who were successful in their field and who suffered. But what made them different, what made them special and _better than you_ was that they were warm, _compassionate_ people who gave a damn about those around them and who wouldn’t-”

“None of them were innocent!” She shot back with a growl. “Every _one_ of them had dirty slates!”

“-you were _jealous_ of them. Because they’d been shown kindness and knew how to give it back and they didn’t hold their physical limitations against those around them.”

The fact that Emily hadn’t interrupted him yet was surprising, but then again, no one else had stepped in either. They were all witnessing what was happening.

“You don’t know the pain!” Maria cried out, tears forming in her eyes. “You don’t know the _torture_ I go through _every. Single. Day._ ”

“So you killed these women to put them out of theirs?”

“I gave them the _ultimate_ kindness!”

_”Remember there's no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.” - Scott Adams_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAH!!!
> 
> But, in all honesty, I want you all to know that this chapter was really difficult for me to write and I feel like I both said _way_ too much and not nearly enough. I also went back and forth a lot on one particular aspect - which I don't think I really need to say, do I? - but in the end, I decided it was best to include it because of how it will influence the rest of the story.
> 
> And yes, for those of you paying attention, there is now a definite set number of chapters. I am officially writing the epilogue. I'm crying, too.
> 
> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) sometime if you want! I've started talking a little bit about what my next fic might be? I've got a few ideas, but I'm narrowing them down now. Also, my inbox is always open there - and open to anon messages if you prefer! - so don't be afraid to say hi :)


	28. The Ultimate Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has Delilah. The rest is just semantics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know the previous chapter was _really_ heavy and I won't lie: the start of this one is dealing with some heavier themes as well. However, I'm hoping the rest of the chapter and where we go from here makes up for it.

_“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved.” - Helen Keller_

_The ultimate kindness. ___

__Those three words kept ringing through Spencer’s mind - and likely everyone else’s - for hours after the interrogation was finally over._ _

__Eventually, Emily had stepped in, drawing the conversation back to something calmer, and they confirmed everything that they’d previously suspected about her._ _

__Maria had been gone to visit family when she as a teenager and had been tortured and raped by her uncle each and every time she was there. The rest of the family had turned a blind eye against it save for a deaf cousin._ _

__The cousin, who she had learned sign language for, was largely ignored when he tried speaking up on her behalf and was often a victim of abuse himself by his mother, Maria’s aunt._ _

__The two had formed a close bond, and eventually both had been able to break away from the family._ _

__She’d gone into communications when her dreams of being involved in the Arts was dashed by a genuine lack of talent and had focused on being a sign language interpreter. She was pretty enough that she’d done well in television, and when she met Siler, it seemed like her life was going well._ _

__But then, five years previously, tragedy had struck. She and her cousin were driving home after a weekend getaway that they’d taken to reconnect and had been struck by a drunk driver who’d swerved into their lane._ _

__They’d gone off the road and had hit a tree, a mechanical malfunction causing the car to soon catch on fire._ _

__Maria had escaped with third degree burns to her hands and arms, but her cousin hadn’t been able to get out._ _

__That, combined with losing her job because of an inability to keep her hands from trembling due to nerve damage, had been the stressor that had started it all._ _

__Siler, who had been 120% devoted to her from the moment they met, did anything she asked of him, essentially encouraging her to reach out and get Spencer and the BAU’s attention by _not_ stopping her._ _

__She’d latched onto Spencer specifically because of that one class he’d taught and had become obsessed with his life, learning as much as she could about him and doing what she could to try and draw him out._ _

__The fact that she hadn’t targeted his mother was still a shock, but then again, Diana Reid shared nothing in common with her._ _

__Delilah, as it turned out, was to be Maria’s final victim, the one that she knew would draw Spencer to her, but in her delusional state, she’d thought that she’d just step in and take over in the role of romantic partner._ _

__As if._ _

__Spencer was running through all of this as he made his way back to the hospital to see Delilah, wondering just how much she’d want to know, how much he should share._ _

__Ultimately, he decided that he would answer any question she had as truthfully as he could. She deserved that much from him, at least._ _

__She was sleeping as he slipped into the room, lying somewhat awkwardly half on her side, most likely to try and relieve some of the pressure on her bandaged-covered back and possibly on her shoulder as well, and he pulled up a chair to sit at her side as he watched her sleep._ _

__The bruise across her cheekbone was darkening and some bruising was coming up along the corners of her jaw where it had been dislocated and then reset. Her hair was a mess, too, and he winced as he thought about how difficult it was going to be to get it untangled and clean again._ _

__He’d have to help her with that, wouldn’t he? If she let him…_ _

__“...’ncer?”_ _

__He lifted his head at the muttered word, giving her a gentle smile as he noticed her eyes had opened to blearily focus on him._ _

__“Hey you.”_ _

__She winced as she tried to move and he was on his feet in an instant to try and help her, pleased when she didn’t shy away from him but instead gripped his upper arm with her good hand as together they got her into a more comfortable position._ _

__“M’back hurts.”_ _

__“I’m sorry, love…” He brushed a curl out of her eyes. “...do you want me to call the nurses to have them come give you another dose?”_ _

__She shook her head. “Tha’s just making me drowsy… Making m’head spin.” She slid her hand down his arm so she could lace her fingers with his in a tight grip. “...but thank you.”_ _

__“Of course.” He gently lifted their joined hands so he could brush a kiss against her knuckles. “Say the word though and I’ll call them for you.”_ _

__She answered with a nod, her eyes sliding closed again for a minute and Spencer half-wondered if she’d simply fallen asleep again._ _

__“...I wanna go home.” She muttered, eyes still closed._ _

__“The doctors say a couple more days.”_ _

__She frowned, opening her eyes to squint at him. “Wha’bout Christmas?”_ _

__“A couple more days would have you getting out of here on Christmas Eve.”_ _

__“Good…” She sighed. “...had plans, y’know.”_ _

__“Did you?” He teased, pressing another kiss to her knuckles, grinning when she gently tapped his cheek with the backs of her fingers._ _

__“Had a whole plan for Christmas mornin’... Was gonna make these special pancakes…”_ _

__“I can make them.”_ _

__She shook her head. “I’d hafta tell you the recipe. Not allowed.”_ _

__“Oh, okay.” He chuckled, his amused smile turning into something softer as she brushed the tips of her fingers against his cheek._ _

__“...does my brother know?”_ _

__He shook his head, his smile faltering. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to tell him or not.”_ _

__“After Christmas,” She murmured. “We can tell them after Christmas.”_ _

__It reassured him that she was still saying ‘we’ though not enough to really soothe his guilt at all._ _

__She must’ve noted the guilt on his features because she was frowning again. “...s’wrong?”_ _

__“I was supposed to protect you…” His eyes had fallen to study their joined hands. “...I was supposed to keep this from happening.”_ _

__“Stop that.” her voice brokered no room for argument, surprising given that she was still largely drugged and couldn’t really raise her voice yet. “This _wasn’t_ your fault.”_ _

__“But if I’d gone _with_ you to your apartment that morning-”_ _

__“They would’ve figured out another time to grab me.”_ _

__He lifted his eyes to meet hers again, looking crestfallen still. “...why aren’t you angry?”_ _

__“I am,” She countered. “Just not with you.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Never with you, Spencer.”_ _

____

~+~+~+~

As the doctors had promised, Delilah was released on Christmas Eve and to absolutely _no_ surprise to Spencer, his entire team showed up to help get her home.

Also to absolutely no surprise was the knowledge that they’d made a bunch of food for them - likely enough to get them through at _least_ New Year’s - much of went straight into either the fridge or freezer with special instructions on each dish for how to heat it up.

JJ might’ve also brought over a couple of bottles of hard cider with special instructions on when to open it.

Spencer wasn’t sure how well it would go with Delilah’s pain medication, but then again Delilah hadn’t been wanting to take it so perhaps she’d like something a little more substantial to drink than water and orange juice.

Thankfully, the team knew when to leave the couple alone and they all parted with careful hugs and softly spoken Merry Christmases that were repeated and shared until finally it was just Delilah and Spencer alone in his apartment.

Delilah didn’t exactly _fall_ into his arms but more sank into them, pressing her forehead against his chest as she clutched at his waist with her good hand, her still-bandaged right hand carefully sandwiched between them due to her arm being in the sling.

Spencer did his best not to hurt her as he wrapped his arms around her in turn, pressing his lips to the top of her head and keeping them there as he felt her shoulders start to shake with quiet sobs.

He wasn’t exactly sure how long he held her, nor did he particularly care, content to hold her for as long as she wanted him to, but when she finally did pull back a touch, it was to peer up at him with a bashful smile and red eyes.

“...sorry…”

“Don’t apologize.” He cooed, lifting a hand from where it had settled at the small of her back to cup her uninjured cheek, gently brushing his thumb back and forth to dispel some of the tears that had fallen. “I _want_ to be here for you, remember?”

She nodded, sniffling a bit still but she made no move to pull out of his embrace.

“ _God_ I want a bath…”

He tensed slightly with her proclamation, unsure how to proceed.

“...I’ll run it for you if you’d like?”

She nodded, but Spencer could tell the exact moment when she realized what he had already figured out because her cheeks suddenly reddened in a deep blush.

“...I’m going to need your help.”

“I know.” Oh, look at that. He was blushing, too. “But I promise to be a gentleman.”

She nodded. “I know you will… I-I just… I’m not sure I’m ready for you to see me yet.” There was a pause before she went on in a much quieter voice, her eyes falling away from his. “...I’m not sure _I’m_ ready to see me yet.”

“Hey, look at me…” He gently encouraged, tilting her chin up so their eyes could lock again. “...no matter what, just remember: scars are proof that you survived. As bad as they might be, they’re evidence that _you won_. Not her.”

She nodded, tearing up again as she pressed herself against him once more and he was content to hold her for a while longer before pulling back so he could lead her towards the bathroom.

She took a seat on the toilet after putting down the lid while he turned to start running the bath, careful to keep the water from getting too hot as it filled the tub though once it had filled to a decent level he shut off the tap before turning back around to face her.

She’d gotten to her feet again at some point and was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked up at him with wide eyes but she made no attempt to get away from him as he stepped closer with his hands out towards her.

First thing to be removed was the sling for her arm, both of them wincing slightly at the pop her shoulder made as she relaxed it down by her side. Next was the button down she had on - a purple one of his that he rather loved on her for more reasons than he could admit to - though thankfully it slid down and off her with little fuss, leaving her bare from the waist up as a bra would’ve been too difficult for her to get on with the sling and would’ve rubbed painfully against the wounds on her back.

He paused after that, especially when she lifted her arms to try and cover her chest, his hands settling on her shoulders in a light touch as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

Her front hadn’t been ravaged as badly as her back, but she’d been stabbed once in the stomach and there was a cut across her left breast.

“Do you want help taking the bandages off?” He murmured, lips still pressed against her forehead.

She shook her head. “No, I-I’ll do it.” She pulled back to give him a timid smile. “But I’ll definitely need your help with the rest of my clothes.”

He nodded, moving to kneel before her as he focused his attentions on getting her out of her jeans and underwear and socks, looking up at her with a soft, adoring smile once he was done.

She’d peeled the bandages off of her front, and he made relatively quick working of peeling them off of her back - he was going to need to clean the wounds, after all - pressing the softest of kisses to her uninjured shoulder as he helped her over to the bathtub and then inside of it.

She slowly sank down into the heat with a relieved sigh, immediately drawing her knees up to her chest and pressing her face against her knees as she took a moment to breathe. Spencer grabbed a towel off the rack and put it under his knees as he knelt beside the tub before folding his arms on the edge and resting his chin on top.

“...you need a minute, love?”

She nodded before turning her head to lock eyes with him and he noticed that they were a little watery again.

“I _hurt_.”

“I know, and I’m sorry…” He lifted a hand to trace it up her arm, noting how she looked a little more relieved with his touch. “...can I do anything?”

“I don’t know.” She gave a one shouldered shrug. “Give me a minute?”

“As many of them as you want, love.”

Eventually, she told him she was ready for him to start with her hair and he tenderly washed and then conditioned the beloved locks, letting the conditioner soak in while he did what he could to wash her body. That was a bit trickier, but they managed and he was happy to see that her back was already showing signs of healing nicely.

She’d have some scars, but as he’d said earlier: scars were proof that she was alive and he’d treasure them as much as he did the rest of her.

Once the snarls had been carefully combed out of her hair and the conditioner rinsed out, he helped her get to her feet so he could rinse her off with the shower head before wrapping a towel around her and helped her back out.

Getting her dressed again in a pair of his pajama bottoms and another old button down was easy enough, thankfully, though then came the task of doing something with her hair.

They retired to the bedroom to attempt that task, and he combed it again before setting about braiding it, thankfully able to find a step-by-step guide on YouTube on how to do so. The end result wasn’t perfect, but it would work.

After that, he wasn’t really sure where to go, but she solved that problem by telling him she wanted to lay down and he was set to tuck her in and head to the couch but apparently that wasn’t what she had in mind either.

“No. I want you here with me.” Her grip on his hand was tight, once again leaving no room for argument. “You make me feel safe, Spencer.”

He was happy to hold her, of course, and after he got changed himself, they somehow made it work where he could wrap his arms around her and she could bury her face against his chest while their legs tangled together.

He wasn’t surprised when she started crying again, but at least there was some relief when her breathing evened out and she fell asleep in his arms.

He soon followed her, slipping into a relieved sleep that remarkably remained undisturbed until well into Christmas morning.

_“A really strong woman accepts the war she went through and is ennobled by her scars.” - Carly Simon_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far on this journey with me, I love you. Yes, you. You in particular.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) and come yell at me. I'm talking about future fic ideas and sequels and whatnot.
> 
> Because yes, I've decided that Chopsticks _will_ have an official multi-chapter sequel as well :)


	29. Diana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has Delilah, and perhaps something more as well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me through the last few chapters. I know they weren't easy, but I promise things are gonna get better.  
> Starting with this chapter. Which is pretty much just fluff.

_“I hadn't been in Vegas 20 minutes when I got word that the bookmakers were offering three to one that Frank wouldn't show for my wedding.” - Sammy Davis, Jr._

The next several weeks while Delilah healed weren’t exactly the easiest - the two hardest things were her having to tell her brother and mother and then having to call the school and tell them that she was going to be out for a little while - but they were getting there.

Spencer had had enough personal time saved up that he was able to take an extended leave to help her, taking her to her doctors and therapy appointments and in all of that time, he fell a little bit more in love with her every day.

Physically, the thing she struggled with the most was the damage done to her hand which interfered with her doing several things that she’d always taken for granted before. She couldn’t brush her hair, couldn’t write, couldn’t fully dress herself, but at least she could manage most hygienic things outside of washing her hair which Spencer was _more_ than happy to help her with.

Her hair just absolutely _fascinated_ him, after all.

But, with time, the damage began to heal and she started being able to use her hand again.

Once the bruises had healed and she’d regained at least a bit of functionality in her hand she was allowed to return to work and Spencer returned as well though it was fairly clear that - at least for a little while - he was going to only work on cases that allowed him to go home at the end of the day.

Sometimes that meant he stayed behind and worked with Garcia more, but he really couldn’t complain because Garcia often sent home baked goods for him and Delilah to share.

Now that the stress of the Triple Ties case was over, though, Spencer had other things to worry about.

Like the fact that his migraines weren’t getting any better and for which doctors couldn’t seem to find a root cause. There’d been suggestions of a psychosomatic response, but he knew that wasn’t it.

He wasn’t crazy.

But Delilah’s Spring Break was quickly approaching, and they were making plans to go somewhere for that week so they could properly unwind and just spend time together and reconnect.

“We could go to Vegas…” Delilah was suggesting as she carefully nibbled at her burger, holding it with both hands to keep from losing it.

“Why Vegas?” Spencer asked after taking a sip of his drink to wash down his own bite of food.

She shrugged. “Maybe I want to see where you grew up. Experience the city through a local’s eyes and all that…”

“It’s Vegas. It’s loud and bright and boisterous and it’s earned the title of Sin City quite legitimately.”

“Yeah, but… Just for a couple of days…”

He narrowed his eyes at her as he realized that she was suggesting something besides just a trip to the casinos.

“...Delilah…”

“Oh, come on, Spencer…” She sighed, setting her burger down to cross her arms in front of her on the table. “...you write a letter to her _every day_ come hell or high water. Of _course_ I want to meet her.”

“I just… I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” He leaned back in his chair, brow furrowing as he tried to figure out how to explain this.

“My mother… Isn’t well and a couple of her doctors are worried that things are getting worse.”

She reached out her left hand to take a hold of his, giving it a gentle squeeze as he kept going.

“She’s growing forgetful, doesn’t always recognize things that she sees every single day.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

“That’s not-”

“It _is_ the point, Spencer.” She squeezed his hand again. “...you need to go see her while she still remembers who you are.”

He nodded his head, eyes dropping down to the table and he missed the look Delilah was giving him.

“...she deserves to know that you’re happy, too, Spencer.”

She was right.

~+~+~+~

Spencer managed to clear the time off with relative ease, even getting a few ‘good lucks’ in from the team when he told them he was taking Delilah to meet his mother, and by the time the vacation in question rolled around, he actually felt fairly prepared for it.

There were a few things, though, that he still really wanted to discuss with Delilah before they left.

The biggest one being something that they hadn’t discussed since before her abduction.

“What’s all this?” She asked that night as she got home, having opened the door to reveal Spencer preparing a romantic dinner for two, complete with wine and music and chocolate.

“I… Wanted to pamper you a little bit.”

She playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “...you’re buttering me up for something.”

“Not quite,” He laughed, reaching out a hand to her and pulling her close to twirl her once around the kitchen as music played softly in the background. “...I wanted to talk about a couple of things with you, and thought it might be easier if we’re both relaxed.”

“Like what?” She asked, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at him, making no move to pull away as they kept slowly swaying back and forth to Diana Krall.

He’d been planning on waiting until after dinner, but she was asking and Spencer had vowed a long time ago that he wasn’t going to hide things from her when she wanted answers.

“Well… About our trip-”

“Is your mom okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine, that’s not-”

“-you’re not canceling, are you?”

“No no no, Delilah listen…” He pulled back slightly, his hands sliding around to gently rest at her hips, and he licked his lips before biting down on his lower lip for a second as he steadied himself for what he was about to say.

“There are… certain _expectations_ that come along with a trip to Vegas. We all know it’s named Sin City for a reason, and I just… I wanted to discuss some of those things with you and figure out where _your_ boundaries are before we get there.”

“...how do you mean?”

“There are three big things that Vegas is known for: gambling, drinking a-and um… And sex.”

She blushed, and Spencer suddenly wasn’t the only one biting down on his lower lip.

“Spencer…”

“I just want you to know that, no matter what happens, I will _never_ pressure you.” His voice has dropped to hardly more than a whisper, but his eyes were just as sincere as his tone, just as adoring as he locked eyes with her and kept going.

“Making love with you was… One of the best experiences of my life. But I-I know what happened to you was traumatic, and I know you’re still dealing with the pain even if you don’t always tell me.” He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, brushing his thumb gently back and forth across her cheekbone.

“I love you, Delilah Jacobs, and I’ll wait as long as you need until you’re ready again. I don’t… I don’t want you to think that, just because we’re going to Vegas I’m expecting something sexual to happen. I’m not. I am _genuinely_ , perfectly content to just hold you if that’s all you can handle.”

She was crying, but Spencer couldn’t tell if they were happy tears or sad ones.

“...I’m scared I’ll never be ready.” She finally confessed, moving to bury her head against his chest and Spencer wrapped his arms tight around her to hold her closer still. “O-or that it’ll never be good again.”

“I know…” He breathed, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “...but I’m with you every step of the way. Even if you never _are_ ready.”

~+~+~+~

It was raining in Vegas as they landed, a quiet sort of spring storm that Spencer knew from experience would be gone almost as quickly as it had started, leaving the air humid for an hour or so before it turned dry again.

Delilah was teasing him about gambling as they passed the rows of slot machines in the airport and Spencer was happy to tell her about all of the casinos he wasn’t allowed in anymore, even telling her the stories of how he’d gotten kicked out of each of them in the cab to his mother’s sanitarium.

As he’d suspected, the rain had stopped by the time they got there, the sun coming back out and making quick work of drying everything up again, the air already starting to heat and Spencer wondered if the reports of hitting 70 that day might be correct.

Delilah was holding his hand, looking up at him expectedly and he gave a nod before taking a deep breath and moving forward, leading her inside where they could get checked in as visitors.

“Today’s a good day.” Diana’s doctor was telling them as he led them towards the entertainment room. “We’re trying a new combination of medication and it seems to be helping. She’s considerably more cognizant today.”

They paused as they reached the room and Spencer felt Delilah squeeze his hand again.

“She’ll be happy to see you, Doctor Reid.”

He nodded, but it still took him a minute to move forward, having already noticed his mother sitting at a table over by one of the windows, scribbling away at something in what was likely a journal.

But then his feet started moving forward and Delilah was moving with him until they’d come to stand just behind his mother.

“...Mom?”

Diana froze at the sound of that familiar voice, pausing for a long moment before she carefully set her pen aside and turned around in her chair to look up at her son and his girlfriend.

“Spencer…” A faint smile started to tug at her lips. “...it’s about time you came to see me.”

Another moment and she’d risen to her feet, pulling her son into a small hug that didn’t quite last long enough for Spencer’s tastes, but then again they’d never really been the hugging type, had they?

Really, it had only been in the last handful of months that his aversion to touch had started to abate, thanks largely to the woman still on his arm.

“It’s good to see you, Mom.”

“I know work keeps you busy. I just wish I could see my perfect son more often.” She playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “Though, judging by this gorgeous creature on your arm, I suspect work isn’t the _only_ thing keeping you busy these days.”

Spencer was blushing as he turned his head towards the gorgeous creature in question - and yes, she was blushing just as much as he was - but he gave her a reassuring smile before turning back to his mother with a grin.

“Mom, this is Delilah Jacobs...” He didn’t have a title for her, did he? Girlfriend was too juvenile, lover too informative, soulmate - while true - was too heavy for introductions. “...my partner.”

Surprisingly, Delilah was pulled into a hug, too.

“He’s never brought a girl to meet me before.” Diana muttered as she released Delilah from her hug. “You gotta be something special, kid.” She winked.

Spencer’s blushing increased but he wasn’t going to deny it. Not now. Not ever.

~+~+~+~

They ended up spending a couple of hours there talking with his mother and Spencer was pleased to note the way the two of them got along. It was a fluid, natural thing, and he couldn’t really help the adoration on his face as he watched Delilah and his mother interact.

They were coming up close on their time, however, and Delilah excused herself to the ladies room for a moment, leaving Spencer and his mother alone so they could say a couple of things in private.

“Marry her.”

Spencer’s eyes were wide as he turned back to look at his mother. “...what?”

“Don’t play with me, Spencer.” She quietly chided. “We both know you heard me. Marry. Her. Sooner rather than later.”

He was blushing, and his mother was smirking. Perfect.

“I want grandbabies. _Plural._ ” She poked him in the chest suddenly. “And I want you to have them with her.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me, Spencer Reid.” She was shaking her finger at him in that way mother’s do. “I know I’m not a healthy or a stable woman. The doctors say I’m doing okay right now, but we both know that won’t last. Give me this while I can still enjoy it.”

He nodded before reaching out and pulling her into a hug, a longer one. One that they both needed but so often refused.

“...I promise.” He whispered as he pulled back, giving her a nod and a smile but Delilah was returning and he couldn’t really say anything more on the subject.

But one thing was for certain: he couldn’t - and _wouldn’t_ \- break this promise to his mother.

_“Keep every promise you make and only make promises you can keep.” - Anthony Hitt_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me on [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if you'd like! My inbox is always open :)


	30. Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has Delilah... And a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am consistently blown away by the love and appreciation y'all continue to bestow upon this little story of mine. I love you all. Seriously.
> 
> Slightly heavier notes again in this chapter, but I hope they're not off-putting.

_“Those who have never known the deep intimacy and the intense companionship of mutual love have missed the best thing that life has to give.” Bertrand Russell_

He’d been spending a lot of time thinking about his promise to his mother.

Honestly, it was something that he’d been thinking about anyway. Something that he’d been thinking about since long before Delilah’s abduction, even, but hearing the validation from his mother, and knowing that she wanted Delilah as a daughter-in-law almost as much as he wanted Delilah as his wife, well…

“What’s on your mind, pretty boy?” Morgan was teasing him, idly ruffling Spencer’s hair as he walked past to take a seat at his desk, though Spencer wasn’t completely paying attention to him.

“Chinese food…” He murmured, though that wasn’t _strictly_ true either.

But none of them needed to know that.

Just like none of them needed to know about the jeweler he’d gone and talked to earlier that morning on his way into work.

Spencer Reid had a plan.

~+~+~+~

New cases came and went, none of them nearly as involved as Triple Ties, thankfully, though that also gave them the time to turn over all of the evidence that they’d gathered on Maria Lancaster.

That was the easy part.

The considerably more-difficult part came when the lawyers got involved, and it was made abundantly clear that Delilah was going to have to participate in questioning.

She made it clear that she didn’t want to testify and Spencer was fully prepared to argue on her side.

She’d lived through it. Why make her live through it again?

Because, well… She’d lived through it the first time the lawyers argued.

All of it was stressing Delilah out which just made Spencer’s migraines worse because he didn’t know how to help her and was doing his best to hide it from her in an effort to keep from adding to her stress.

In the end, she agreed to testify if for no other reason than to ensure justice for those women that hadn’t been quite as lucky as she’d been.

The day of the trial’s start found the two of them standing under a hot water stream in the shower with Delilah pressed up against Spencer’s chest while he held her close, his fingers idly running through the wet locks of her hair as she focused on just breathing and listened to the steady thump of his heart.

Intimacy, Spencer enjoyed reminding himself, was not synonymous with sexuality, but the lack of a sexual undertone didn’t take away from the moment’s romanticism either. They were standing in the shower holding one another, drawing strength and comfort from one another. Sure, they were naked, and yes Spencer liked feeling her naked skin pressed against his, but this moment was about tenderness, not desire.

It was far more intimate than anything he’d ever read about, and honestly, it scared him a little.

Scared him because - of all the things he’d experienced with Delilah Jacobs - these sorts of moments, right here, were the best things he’d ever encountered.

He’d never been more naked, never felt more alive.

It had taken some time to get to that point though, and there were still days when Delilah hid from him beneath layers of clothing and pulled away from his touch.

For all that he didn’t like it, he understood, and would quietly retreat to another room until she came looking for him, usually with a cup of coffee for each of them, and she would take a seat at his side and carefully rest her head on his shoulder.

Touch was always on her terms, and always would be.

That morning, however, it was clear that she was a little more needy, never moving far from Spencer even after they’d climbed out of the shower to dry off and get dressed. He was always within arm reach of her and if she looked up and realized that he wasn’t, she moved closer until he was again.

She stayed that way all the way to the courthouse, her hand tight in his as they entered the courtroom and found their seats with the rest of Spencer’s team, preparing themselves for what was to come.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but Spencer knew that together they could handle it all.

~+~+~+~

Spencer had known that the trial wasn’t the sort that was going to be glossed over in an afternoon - hell, jury selection alone had taken up the entire first day - and he’d known that Delilah was going to have a rough time of it.

So, he wasn’t really surprised when Delilah said that she wanted a little bit of time alone that night as they got back to their apartment complex, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead before watching her disappear inside of her apartment.

It might’ve been a touch strange being alone in his own apartment, too. She’d been staying with him prior to her abduction out of safety concerns and had been living with him immediately after so he could better take care of her while she healed.

She’d ended up staying with him more often than not - really, the only time she _wasn’t_ at his place was when he was out on assignment and she’d stay in her own place for a night or two - so the apartment felt bigger than normal as he went about making himself something for dinner that night.

Bigger and quieter. Empty almost.

He didn’t like it. Not at all.

He’d curled up on the couch to watch a documentary but was only halfway paying attention to it, his mind wandering over the details of the case as he wondered where the prosecution would go and where the defense would try to steer it.

He was sure that the defense was going to try for an insanity plea, though the fact that they hadn’t submitted that plea yet was strange.

He was most of the way through the documentary when he heard the locks on his door disengaging, and he raised his head towards the sound, his surprise clear when Delilah slid inside and then turned to lock the doors back behind her.

She’d put on her pajamas, he noticed.

Muting the television, he sat up a bit straighter in his seat as she came over, turning to face her more directly as she took a seat next to him and he couldn’t help but notice her watery eyes and red-tinted features.

“You’ve been crying…”

She nodded, not quite meeting his gaze, though she reached out her hands to gently take a hold of his.

“...she’s going to be there tomorrow…” Delilah whispered, and Spencer had no questions about who the ‘she’ in this scenario was.

“Are you sure you’re up to going?”

She nodded again. “It’s just listening tomorrow. I um… I’m not supposed to testify until the next day.”

“I know…” He gently squeezed her hand. “That’s not what I asked.”

Her eyes locked with his then, and he noted that she was worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

“...I need to be there. It’s important.” She looked like she was going to start crying again, and Spencer’s heart hurt for her. “...she needs to see that I lived. That she lost a-and that she’s about to lose again.”

Spencer carefully let go of one of her hands so he could lift his own to rest against her cheek, brushing his thumb across the soft skin there in a comforting gesture as he also brushed away the tears that were starting to fall again.

“You’ve already proven yourself, Delilah,” He murmured, giving her a gentle smile. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

She carefully nodded.

“You’re here and the fact that you want to prove that you’re alive means you already are. You’re living and thriving and are _so incredibly treasured_.” He leaned forward to press his lips to the space between her eyes, lips still brushing against her skin as he went on. “...I hope you know that, love.”

She didn’t answer him, but she did move more-fully into his arms, wrapping her own around him as she rested her head against his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart.

It was something at least.

~+~+~+~

The following days were long, arduous things that made Spencer’s teeth itch and his head pound.

He and Delilah had spoken some about what had happened to her - opening up to loved ones as she saw fit was part of her therapy - but having to hear _all_ of it now, having to watch her try to keep it together as she relived those moments while he sat off to the side… Unable to hold her…

Garcia might’ve been holding his hand. So was JJ.

When Delilah was allowed to leave the stand, the judge called an hour recess, an hour which Spencer spent the entirety of holding Delilah as she sobbed into his sweater vest, gently stroking her hair and pressing kisses to her forehead to try and soothe her.

He stayed home with Delilah on the final day when Maria was giving her testimony. Hotch told him later that he’d made a wise decision.

Garcia brought them over a cake later as comfort food, though it looked more like she was the one who needed the comfort, clearly having _not_ been prepared for whatever it was their former Unsub had said.

But they both made a point to be there when the lawyers gave their final speeches, when the judge turned things over to the jury, when the judge dismissed them all and told them they would be informed when the jury came back from deliberations with their verdict.

It only took a couple of hours, enough time for Spencer’s team to take him and Delilah out for a rather nice lunch.

A short deliberation either meant really good news, or really bad news.

“...we the jury find the defendant… Guilty.”

On all counts.

Delilah was crying, sobbing into his chest once again, but Spencer knew these were tears of relief and not the overwhelmed, tired ones that had been plaguing her so often lately.

Sentencing was to be the next day, but Spencer knew the numbers, knew that Maria Lancaster was going away for a _very_ long time - assuming she didn’t get the death penalty - and that they would never have to worry about her ever again.

~+~+~+~

They’d all been fairly confident that the verdict would be in their favor, and apparently Rossi had thought ahead and had booked a reservation for them at a _very_ nice restaurant in downtown DC, and Delilah had seemed just as eager to spend time with the team as the team was to spend with her.

They knew so _little_ about one another, after all.

Spencer, for the most part, was content to sit back and listen, knowing that Delilah was more than capable of handling herself, though it seemed predominately as though Garcia and JJ were controlling the conversation with his girlfriend.

Even after dinner had been ordered and consumed and they were all sipping cups of coffee as they nibbled on dessert, Spencer wasn’t saying much, though he was watching Delilah proudly, lovingly as she was discussing the composition she was working on that she was going to be showing off in a couple of weeks at the final concert of the year.

His girl, his woman, his _goddess_ was composing music. How absolutely _divine_.

Spencer could feel someone watching him, and he turned, noting that it was Hotch who was giving him a curious little smile. Spencer narrowed his eyes slightly in question, but Hotch merely gave a minute shake of his head before taking a sip of his coffee and returning his attentions to the conversation around them.

Eventually, the hour turned late, the sky darkening and the interior lighting dimming even as wait staff came around to light candles at the center of each table.

_It’s late. We should head home…_

Delilah had scooted her chair closer to his and was resting her head on his shoulder, his arm draped across the back of her chair while his hand idly twisted a curl between his fingers. She looked half-asleep. Angelic.

Spencer dropped a kiss to the top of her head, ignoring the soft ‘awww’ that came from the girls as they took in the sight.

She stirred, giving him a small smile before she sat up and stretched, and another moment found all of them getting to their feet as they searched for jackets and settled the checks.

“I’m gonna run to the restroom,” Delilah murmured as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he nodded as he told her he’d get them an uber, watching as all four women headed off in the direction of the facilities, leaving the men alone.

Or, more specifically, him and Hotch, as Morgan and Rossi were still settling their bills.

“So. Do you own it yet?” Hotch quietly broke the silence to ask.

Spencer squinted at him again. “Pardon?”

“Do you own it yet?”

“...own what?”

“I had that same look on my face when I decided I was going to ask Haley to marry me. So, I’ll ask again: do you own _it_ yet?”

Spencer blushed, giving Hotch an embarrassed smile. “...I’ve spoken to a jeweler about it.”

“Good for you.”

“But, Hotch, don-”

“I won’t say anything Reid. It’s none of our business. Just… Know what we’re happy for you.”

Spencer could hear Delilah laughing, turning towards the sound and he felt his heart swell at the sight of her laughing at something the girls were teasing her about.

“You deserve it.” Hotch patted him on the shoulder, and yeah…

Maybe Spencer _did_ deserve this.

_“Feelings aroused by the touch of someone's hand, the sound of music, the smell of a flower, a beautiful sunset, a work of art, love, laughter, hope and faith - all work on both the unconscious and the conscious aspects of the self, and they have physiological consequences as well.” Bernie Siegel_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, originally, this story was going to be 30 chapters long, but then I had to include the last chapter and this one, which is why it's 32. Pretty sure you all know what's coming next because you're smart cookies and I'm not even going to try and be subtle about it.
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if you want :)


	31. Opal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has Delilah and maybe a new concept of forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait a day to post this, but I couldn't hold it back any longer.  
> I love you all. Truly.

_“As long as there's pasta and Chinese food in the world, I'm okay.” - Michael Chang_

Delilah usually got home from work between five thirty and six most nights depending on the traffic and how crowded the metro was and Spencer knew that with it being a Friday night, it would likely be closer to the six pm mark than the five thirty.

He’d had Chinese food delivered accordingly, and was pleased when it showed up at about ten minutes til, giving him ample time to set the table and light the candles and whatnot as he waited the last few minutes for Delilah to arrive.

At three minutes after, he heard keys jangling and the lock disengaging, and he was on his feet standing next to the table with his hands in his pockets as he waited for her to come inside and notice him.

He’d been gone for the last two weeks on assignment and had told her that he wasn’t going to be back in town until the following morning.

Oops.

“Spencer!”

“Surprise!” He chuckled, throwing his arms out in welcome as she rushed towards him, holding her close as he dropped a lingering kiss to the top of her head, gladly shifting to give her a proper kiss when she pulled back to look up at him with those big brown eyes that he so adored.

He licked his lips when they pulled back - she tasted vaguely of cherry chapstick - and grinned before moving to pull out her chair for her so she could take a seat.

But Delilah looked a touch confused as she took in everything and was worrying her lower lip between her teeth for a long moment before she finally looked up at him where he was seated next to her.

“...there’s no forks.”

“I know,” He murmured, reaching over to rest his hand over hers. “But I also remember someone telling me once that learning to use chopsticks was how they maintained the dexterity in their hand and fingers.”

She looked uncertain, but he kept going.

“You taught me how to use them, love. Let me help you relearn.”

It was clear that she still wasn’t sure about this, but she nodded her agreement all the same.

The first struggle was with being able to hold the chopsticks. One stick she could manage without much difficulty, as it was much like holding a pencil. Things only became complicated when she tried adding in the second.

But, after several tries and a few growls of frustration, she managed it and was even able to carefully work the sticks back and forth in a mimic of actually using them.

Next was attempting to pick something up, but Spencer had planned ahead and had gotten some food dishes that were a bit less tricky in that aspect, both of them sporting large grins when she was successfully able to pick up a piece of honey chicken and eat it without dropping it.

They were about halfway through their meal when Delilah made a comment about wanting to try a bite of lo mein, and while she slowly maneuvered a bite of noodles to her mouth, Spencer was busy picking up a bite of General Tso's for her.

Except, when she turned to the chopsticks he had outstretched towards her, it wasn’t chicken that was actually carefully being held between the two ends.

It wasn’t food at all, as a matter of fact.

No, instead, carefully balanced between the ends of Spencer’s chopsticks was a rose gold ring with a square-cut fire opal in the middle, offset with diamonds that wrapped around the opal and then trailed down either side of the band.

“...Spencer??”

He’d locked eyes with her, a soft, adoring grin tugging at the corners of her lips as he took her in in that moment, more sure of what he was about to do than anything he’d ever done in his life.

“I um… I had a little speech prepared,” He started, voice soft. “A good speech, too. But… The truth is, I don’t think it’s enough. Those _words_ aren’t enough. Not for you.”

He reached out to take her hand with the one of his that wasn’t still carefully holding those chopsticks.

“When it comes right down to it, I-I don’t know if _I’m_ enough for you. But you? You are my _everything_ and so, here I am, my love, before you now, asking if you’ll do me the greatest honor you possibly can and agree to spend the rest of your life with me as my wife. Will you marry me, Delilah Jacobs?”

She was crying, but she was nodding as well.

“Yes, Spencer, _yes_!”

How he managed to keep his hold on the chopsticks as Delilah flung herself at him was anyone’s guess, but he was quite happy to kiss her back just as enthusiastically as she was kissing him, only pulling back a long moment later to breathe and laugh with her as he moved to finally slide that ring onto her finger.

But then she was kissing him again, her hands sliding into his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist as she settled more comfortably onto his lap.

She tasted like soy sauce and honey chicken and _Delilah_ and Spencer never wanted to stop kissing her.

Delilah, it seemed, very much wanted the same thing, because dinner had rather completely been forgotten in a matter of moments and Spencer found that - regardless of the resulting mess - he wanted to sweep the contents of the table off to the floor so he could put Delilah up on it and absolutely _ravish_ her.

He pulled back suddenly at the thought, eyes squeezing shut even tighter as his hands pulled out of her hair and rested on her shoulders.

“Don’t push me away, Spencer,” Delilah breathed, leaning closer and pressing her lips against _that_ spot, her hands still carding through his hair and his own hands tightened their grip on her shoulders.

“...I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want to try... “ Another kiss pressed to his lips before she shifted to nip at his jaw and really that just wasn’t fair. “... _please_ , love.”

“Just promise you’ll be honest with me.” His hands started to slide up into her hair again.

“Always.”

And then they were kissing again and this time Spencer didn’t hold back but poured his heart into the kiss, feeling her melt against him and give just as good as she was being given.

It wasn’t long before they started to shift and Spencer was about to make good on his earlier thought of sweeping the food to the floor to clear the table, but Delilah pulled back and muttered ‘bed’ against his lips and he nodded his agreement.

Easier clean up, he supposed…

He remembered the first time they made the journey from the living room to the bedroom where they were too busy kissing to really pay attention to where they were going. That first time they’d made the journey without knocking into anything.

...at least he didn’t really _like_ that vase…

They half-stumbled into the bedroom and Delilah already had his shirt unbuttoned by the time they fell onto the bed, and Spencer only took his hands out of her hair long enough to yank the fabric off and toss it aside.

Her own shirt was gone a moment later and Spencer took a moment to appreciate her before his lips were once more on hers, one hand still tangled in her hair even as the other slid around behind her and made quick work of unlatching her bra.

She arched into him, both of them shuddering as her bare breasts made contact with his bare chest and his hand flattened out against her spine to hold her there as his lips left hers to start trailing along her jaw and down her neck, lingering at her pulse point for a long moment until she suddenly pushed her hips up against his with a whimper.

“Patience…”

“No… Need you.” She tugged on his hair just hard enough to pull his lips back up to hers and yes, he wanted to give it to her, but…

“...soon.” His hand slid down her spine to cup her bottom, pulling her hips up against his as he gently ground down into her, admiring the way her eyes fluttered shut with the movement and he repeated the move just as much for himself as he did for her.

She made a pleading noise again and Spencer took that as his cue to start making his way down, lingering as long as he could on her breasts and then her stomach before he pulled back to kneel between her legs, his hands smoothing up and down her thighs as he admired the way she was spread out before him.

Her trousers were almost immediately gone, tossed aside, her underwear going the same way a moment later and Delilah was completely bare before him.

“I’ll never get over how beautiful you are…” He murmured as his hands slid down the inside of her thighs, spreading her open for him as he leaned over and wasted absolutely _no_ time in letting his mouth settle over her so he could get his first taste of her in months.

He settled in almost immediately, prepared to spend as long as he could on this feast, his lips gently wrapping around her clit before his tongue darted out to flutter against it, a moment later finding him shifting a touch lower so he could lick at her entrance though his nose still did occasionally bump against the swollen bundle of nerves.

Her hands once again found purchase in his hair and while Spencer had been thinking it was time for a haircut again, he didn’t want to go _too_ short. Not when having her fingers in his hair like _this_ was possible.

“...fingers…” She begged, squirming slightly beneath him as his lips once more wrapped around her clit and sucked, though he was happy to give her what she wanted, sliding a finger inside of her though he immediately froze at the whimper she let out in response.

He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been a good whimper or not, and he lifted his head to check on her.

Her head was thrown back against the pillows, her skin flushed and her breathing labored, but her eyebrows were drawn together just a hint.

“...talk to me…”

“Just… Just give me a minute.” She panted and Spencer did as she asked, giving her a chance to get used to the sensation of being touched again and as her hips started to shift so did his finger, the digit gently sliding out and then back in again.

There was no complaint from her that time, and almost immediately his lips and tongue settled on her clit again, and he grinned to himself as she scooted closer in a clear search for more.

He was happy to give it to her, starting to use his finger in tandem with his mouth and when it started to seem like she was ready for more, he carefully added a second digit and found that spot inside of her that made her back arch as far as it could.

He was rewarded with a choked plea for more, to not stop, to _‘take me there, Spencer, **please**_ and he used every trick he’d learned about her to give her what she was so desperately begging for, keeping his lips locked around her clit when she shattered beneath him with a gasping cry.

He didn’t want to overstimulate her, though - no matter how tempting it might’ve been to keep going, to see just how many times he _could_ make her break that night - so he pulled back to rest his cheek against her thigh, grinning softly up at her as she tried to catch her breath, though as soon as she looked down to lock eyes with him, he made a show of licking his fingers clean of her essence.

She arched an eyebrow at him before sitting up - though he was pleased to note it took a bit of effort because her muscles were still twitching a bit - reaching out to pull him up so she could claim a kiss, her hands tangling in his hair and Spencer was a touch surprised when he felt her suddenly shifting them until he was the one beneath her, her legs on either side of his hips as she straddled him.

And he _moaned_ as she suddenly ground her hips down against his, his hands immediately falling to her hips to both still her actions and to encourage her further.

“...Delilah…”

“I need you, Spencer…” She breathed, her lips again settling on _that_ spot that they’d both learned would make him cave, though she played even dirtier and let her tongue dart out for a taste of it as well. “...I want to try.”

She moved her hips again, pressing herself as close to him as she could get.

“...please, love…”

He nodded, unable to deny her anything as he turned his head to find her lips again, catching them with ease and somehow a few minutes later found them working together to rid him of the rest of his clothing, leaving him just as bare as she was.

Her hand found his erection, and he broke the kiss with a whimper as she gave him a long slow stroke and then repeated the motion a handful of times.

“...condom…” He managed to gasp, but she shook her head, pressing a kiss to the corner of his eye, her free hand resting at the back of his neck and teasing the hairs at his nape.

“Pill,” She countered and Spencer nodded as he remembered she’d starting taking it to help with her endometriosis problems. “...want to _feel_ you…”

“I-I’ve never-” He muttered, lips brushing against hers. “-not without-”

“Me either,” She interrupted, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes and Spencer _knew_ that he’d never deny her.

So he nodded, and another moment later-

“Spencer!”  
“Delilah!”

His hands slid up her back to hold her close, his lips settling on her neck as she dropped her head back with a moan, both of them enjoying the feeling of being so absolutely, _breathtakingly_ close for the first time.

Slowly, she started to move, rocking her hips back and forth as she drew him in and out of her body and Spencer slid one of his hands down to grasp her hip and aid her in her movements.

He whispered her name again as she brought her head back up, their eyes locking for a moment before she shifted to press her forehead against his and suddenly they were breathing each other in, stealing kisses between labored breaths and stuttered ‘I love yous’, hands wandering where they would, where they _could_ as they rocked together in perfect harmony.

Spencer could feel the heat rising, could feel his blood starting to boil, but there was no way he was going to let it reach a crescendo without Delilah joining him, and he slid one of his hands around her body and then between them so he could gently rub his thumb over her clit, rubbing in tandem with their thrusts and settling his lips against her neck as she once again dropped her head back with a pleading moan.

Their skin was flushed, damp and glistening with sweat, and Spencer was breathing in the salt of her with each desperate breath he sucked in as he pressed his face against her neck when Delilah broke with a cry of ecstasy, the sudden rush of heat and clamping muscles and _that glorious noise she made_ being enough for Spencer to topple over the edge with her.

He was aware of heat and wet and Delilah’s arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, her whole body shuddering in his hold as they started to come down from their mutual highs and he slid his lips up her neck until he reached her lips so he could claim a kiss from her a moment later.

As they started to relax they fell to their sides, limbs still all tangled as they curled into one another, and Spencer noticed as he lifted his hand to brush a stray curl off of Delilah’s forehead that she wasn’t the only one trembling a bit.

“...you’re my everything, too, you know…” Delilah whispered suddenly, and it took Spencer a moment to realize what she was referring to.

Huh. That was new.

“I just hope…” He breathed, leaning forward to claim another gentle kiss from her. “...that I’ll always be able to be what you need.”

“Well…” She murmured, returning the gentle kiss as she started playing with his hair again. “...you’ve got the rest of your life to try.”

And that might’ve been the greatest thing that Spencer had ever heard.

_“Sex is the best high. It's better than any drug. I want to die making love because it feels so good.” - Bai Ling_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's only the epilogue left. I'm... honestly trying not to cry right now.
> 
> I really do love you all.
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](http://blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com/) if you'd like.


	32. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Spencer Reid has Delilah, and Delilah has him right back.

_“A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love.” - Max Muller_

It was the three year anniversary of the day that they’d met, and Spencer Reid was standing in front of an altar.

Wearing a tux.

_Fidgeting_.

There was a storm moving in, and while yes it was _certainly_ considered good luck for it to rain on one’s wedding day, they were outside and he didn’t exactly want to see Delilah’s wedding dress get ruined by mud.

Not that he had any idea of what it looked like, of course. She’d kept the thing very hush hush from the beginning and perhaps that was for the best. Spencer had quite the imagination on him, after all, and one look at the dress and he’d likely figure out exactly how she looked in it, which would sort of ruin the Big Reveal.

“You okay there, pretty boy?” Morgan quietly asked from his left side and Spencer gave a nod, reminding himself to breathe, though his eyes were completely trained down on his feet as he tried to keep from fidgeting too terribly much.

But then… Music. And the sound of people getting to their feet, and Spencer lifted his gaze to where he knew Delilah had just come to stand at the foot of the aisle.

And there were… No words, no _breath_ as he looked at her for the first time, eyes going wide before a grin slowly started to spread across his features.

Truly, a goddess. _His_ goddess. His goddess that he was about to pledge his undying love and loyalty to for as long as they both should live.

The next few minutes were something of a blur as she approached him, as Tony handed her off and as they listened to the officiate talk about why they were all gathered there today, but then the important moment started and they were exchanging words.

Words that Spencer felt to his very core. Words followed by an exchange of rings and then a few more words and then…

“...with the power vested in me, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may kiss your bride.”

And kiss Delilah Spencer did, both of his hands cupping her cheeks as his mouth covered hers, and he was distantly aware of whoops and cheers, but he was losing himself in the taste of her lipstick and the taste of _her_ and the feel of her hands clutching at his waist and of the way her teeth _just_ grazed against his lower lip when he pulled back a long moment later to rest his forehead against hers.

And giggled.

To be fair, they both giggled, and Spencer couldn’t remember ever being happier than he was in that moment.

~+~+~+~

They’d ultimately elected to have a small wedding with just their closest friends and family present and keeping with their outdoor wedding, they’d had a large tent set up not far from where they’d exchanged their vows.

It was shielded enough to protect everyone underneath it when the afternoon storm finally broke, but open enough that Spencer really shouldn’t have been surprised when Delilah suddenly took him by the hand and yanked him out into the downpour with her.

They started sliding a bit in the rain-slickened grass but ultimately found their feet, and Delilah was grinning up at him as she pulled him down to her for a kiss, a kiss he was happy to return until he pulled back in confusion when he heard the music suddenly get a bit louder.

Ah. Morgan had moved one of the speakers so it faced out towards them.

“I believe it’s time for our first dance, Mister Reid.”

“The first of many, I hope, _Missus_ Reid,” He murmured as he pulled her into his arms, both of them starting to slowly sway back and forth as the sounds of Etta James’ “Sunday Kind of Love” was belted out to them.

“Do you remember the first time we danced to this song together?” He murmured, pressing his lips against her temple as they continued to sway together in the rain.

“Of course.” She nodded, pressing a hint closer to him.

“Do you remember what we did _after_?” He’d shifted his head enough so he could murmur that question against the shell of her ear.

She didn’t verbally answer, but nodded, and he could feel her trembling slightly all of a sudden, and it certainly wasn’t because of the rain.

Good. Exactly the reaction he’d been going for.

“...I’m going to spend an entire _day_ doing that to you on our honeymoon.”

Delilah, as Spencer had learned over the last three years with her, liked it when he got a little _naughty,_ particularly when he told her about it when they were somewhere she couldn’t immediately react.

Like now. At their wedding. Surrounded by their closest friends and loved ones.

But he’d be hard-pressed to miss the way her pupils were a bit dilated when she pulled back to peer up at him.

Just as he would be hard-pressed to miss a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Just remember I have a few plans of my own, husband.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if his own pupils were suddenly a bit dilated as well.

~+~+~+~

The rain continued long after their first dance was over, long after Morgan and JJ and Emily came running out to pull them back under the cover of the tent insisting that the newlyweds would get sick and really, that wasn’t any way to spend their honeymoon.

But they found some towels and dried off as much as they could - Delilah’s hair was doing some sort of crazy-beautiful curling and Spencer had to remind himself that they weren’t in private yet - and then continued to dance and Spencer could fully admit that he was a little tipsy from champagne.

He could also fully admit that he was completely drunk on his wife, and didn’t care in the slightest who knew it.

It helped that she seemed to be completely drunk on him as well.

But, the evening started to wind down - as evenings do - and it was Rossi who approached them and told them to run while they had a chance. He had a limo waiting out back for them that would take them to their hotel or wherever else they wanted to go.

“Let us worry about the clean-up. You two kids get out of here before Morgan starts getting ideas.”

Spencer shook his hand and Delilah kissed his cheek before they took one look at each other, grabbed hands and bolted.

They were still laughing as they climbed into the backseat, and Spencer gave the driver the name of the bed and breakfast they’d booked for the night before closing the privacy screen and turning towards his wife.

Later, when he would think back over this moment, he really wouldn’t be able to figure out which of them moved first, but would remember the feeling of hands tangling in his hair, of curls wrapping around his own digits and of the taste of champagne and chocolate and _Delilah_ on his tongue.

He’d remember the way she shifted until she was straddling him there in the backseat, the feel of her pressing close as he wrapped his arms around her waist, the quiet sighs of contentment when he moved to kiss along the smooth column of her neck.

He wasn’t going to make love to her in the backseat of a limo, no, but he could get the process started, at the very least.

By his count, they had about twenty minutes before they got to the bed and breakfast, and he was quite happy to spend the entirety of that time with his hands in her hair, with his lips on her neck and maybe along her collarbones which were exposed by the sleeveless design of her dress.

What had she called it? A sweetheart neckline?

He might’ve been distantly thinking about how unsafe it was that neither of them were properly buckled in, but if anyone knew the statistics on the probabilities of them getting into a car crash and being injured tonight, well… It would certainly be him, wouldn’t it?

They got to the bed and breakfast within the amount of time that Spencer had predicted, and thankfully the driver gave them a few minutes to compose themselves before he came around to open doors and fetch luggage that Rossi must’ve helped him load into the trunk.

They were leaving for their honeymoon the next day, and didn’t want to go back to their apartment first and risk getting stuck in traffic and missing their flight.

Besides, Spencer was fairly certain he was going to want as much time to lay in bed with her the next morning as he could get.

It didn’t take them long to get checked in or taken up to their room - they’d picked a place that was a bit quieter, but no less romantic - and were left alone relatively quickly.

There was a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket by the bed, a small platter of chocolate covered strawberries carefully plated next to it, but neither of them moved towards the complimentary treats.

No, they moved towards each other again - though they’d never strayed that far from one another to begin with - but Spencer’s hold on Delilah was softer this time, one hand settling on her waist while the other slowly slid up her back to tease at the warm flesh between her shoulder blades.

Delilah had stepped closer to him as he’d wrapped his arms around her, her own suddenly loosely draping around his shoulders as she pressed her chest to his and peered up at him, and Spencer could swear that he could see eternity in her eyes.

Neither of them seemed to be aware of it, but they’d started to slowly sway where they stood, dancing in a small, slow circle and after a quiet moment Delilah started to hum and then they were shifting into a more proper dancing stance and Delilah tucked her head up underneath Spencer’s chin.

Spencer still had a hand resting at the small of her back when Delilah pulled back just enough to peer up at him, her lashes lowered a touch and lips parted slightly in invitation.

An invitation that Spencer _most assuredly_ couldn’t ignore, and he lowered his head to brush his lips against hers, the dance stalling a moment later as the kiss started to heat up again and both of them remembered where they were and why.

Spencer soon became aware of Delilah pulling her hand out of his so she could rest hers against his chest, though they slid up a moment later to start undoing his bowtie and he gasped when she broke the kiss to press her lips against his Adam’s apple.

His own hands weren’t exactly _idle_ though, and had discovered the zip to her dress relatively quickly.

“...may I?” He breathed, tilting his head back to give her better access to his neck and he felt more than heard her murmured ‘please’ in response.

So down down down the zip went, and a moment later he felt Delilah pull back so that her dress could slide to the floor and puddle in a pool of ivory silk at her feet, leaving her in lace the color of champagne.

He let his gaze linger for a long moment, taking her in in her entirety and committing her to memory, his hands settling at her waist as his fingers toyed with the band of her garter belt.

Words had completely escaped him, something that Delilah no doubt could tell because she was giggling even as she blushed under his adoration, her fingers starting to once again work on his clothing as she made to push his jacket off his shoulders and made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt, shoving that down his arms as well.

There was a brief moment of laughter when she realized that he had cufflinks and his arms were still stuck in the fabric of his shirt, but it didn’t last long and they were kissing each other again a moment later, grins still firmly attached to their features even as they slowly started to shuffle their way back towards the bed.

More kisses followed as the rest of their garments were pulled off and cast aside - he’d rather particularly enjoyed stripping her of her stockings - Spencer’s lips happily settling against the red marks that his wife’s undergarments had left on her flesh as he sought to soothe as well as arouse.

But he couldn’t stay away from her lips for long, returning to them over and over again while his hands traced and caressed and lingered, his body arching into hers as her own hands did the same.

He wasn’t surprised though, when she took one of his hands in hers and slid it down her body to where she _really_ wanted to be touched, and Spencer swallowed her pleased moans with a sense of pride when he found her already aroused as his fingers parted the seam of her sex to start their exploration.

Her hands were tangled in his hair, his lips settled against her pulse point as he slowly worked two fingers in and out of her, his thumb moving in gentle circles over her clitoris as he listened to her quiet moans and pleas for more and yes and _right there, Spencer, **please**_ , and he gave it to her until she shattered beneath him with a stuttered gasp of his name.

Twice.

She stopped him before he could bring her to a third though.

“...I need you in me…” She breathed, lips brushing against his with the words and it was Spencer’s turn to whimper again when he felt her fingers wrap around his erection, her thumb smoothing back and forth across the head a handful of times before she gave him a long, slow stroke down and back up.

It required a little bit of shifting - and a fair amount more kissing - but soon enough he was hovering over her, eyes locked with hers as he lifted one of her legs to drape it around his hip as he lined himself up with her, eyes staying locked as he whispered he loved her and then slowly slid inside.

What followed was a quiet, near-Holy thing as they rocked together, bodies pressed close and lips never straying far from the other and Spencer never wanted it to end.

But when it did… Oh.

He’d always thought Delilah was beautiful in the throes of ecstasy, but seeing her here, now, as his _wife_ in the throes of ecstasy?

How could he not tumble over the edge and follow wherever she led?

After the heat had started to pass and they were left with matching heartbeats as they tried to catch their breath, Spencer’s lips had found purchase once more against the column of her neck and along her collarbones, Delilah’s hands languidly carding through his hair as she pressed her own lips to whatever she could reach.

Eventually, her lips found his and Spencer inhaled as it lingered, breathing her in for a long moment before he slowly started to turn, both of them curling up on their sides even as they curled further into one another.

“...I had a thought.”

“Imagine that.”

She thumped him playfully on the chest as she giggled. “I’m serious Spencer.”

“What was your thought, my love?”

“Well… It’s about what’s next.”

He frowned slightly. “...you mean our honeymoon?”

“No no, I-I mean our _future_.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, but go ahead.”

“It’s just um… I mean, we _just_ bought that big beautiful house, but it seems sort of silly for just the two of us to own a three bedroom, two-story house, Spencer.”

“...okay…”

“And I was thinking, you know, that my um…” She was blushing suddenly. Why was she blushing? “...my birth control prescription runs out right after we get back from Italy.”

Wait. Was she suggesting what he thought she was suggesting??

“...Delilah…?”

“What if I… I don’t know… _Didn’t_ get it refilled?”

“What about your endometriosis?”

She was worrying her lower lip slightly between her teeth. “I’ve already spoken with my OBGYN about it, and she says their might be a couple of alternatives that could work, but um…” Her blushing had increased, and maybe Spencer was blushing suddenly too.

“...I want to try and make a baby with you, Spencer. I… want us to have a family together.”

His only response was to kiss her and _show_ just how very much he liked that idea.

~+~+~+~Fin~+~+~+~

_“A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.” - Mignon McLaughlin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so... Unbelievably emotional writing and posting this, for a number of reasons.
> 
> First and foremost, this story is over. There won't be any chapters after this one. Not for this particular part of Delilah and Spencer's story, at least.  
> This chapter, this _ending_ was the hardest part for me to write. I stewed over it for nearly three solid **weeks** before I was finally satisfied with it enough to share with you all because I wanted it to be the end to the story that you all deserved.  
>  I couldn't have done any of this without you. This is - seriously - the first multi-chapter fic that I've ever finished.  
> And I have you all to thank for that.  
> Spencer and Delilah and their story have you all to thank for that.
> 
> I am so very, very humbled that you all have continued to allow me onto your computers and into your hearts for the last several months as we made this journey together.
> 
> I love you all.
> 
> Until next time  
> ~Jo

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're enjoying this so far, and I'd love to know what you think!!


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